Not What Was, But Will Be
by Konerok Hadorak
Summary: He came with a purpose. He came with a promise. It's a hunter's job to slay beasts after all, yes?
1. Chapter 1: Our Eyes Have Yet to Open

**A/N: This little piggy got married. This little piggy can't find a job. This little piggy has no motivation to do _anything._ Explains why it took so long to finish this pilot chapter. I've been on a Bloodborne streak lately, and this happened to be the first of many story ideas I've come up with. I know, I know, ALL RWBY/Bloodborne stories are the same right? Random Hunter goes *POOF* into Remnant, and then yada yada yada... **

**Well, I've taken that into consideration and obviously if you know me and my other works, this _won't_ be like that. At least, not explicitly like that. Oh, fear not good friends! I have a rough story line planned out from which to work with. **

**I'm also aware that there are other stories of mine that are in dire need of my attention, and I promise you I am working on them as well; several are almost finished actually!**

 ** _Legacy Eternal,_ Ch. 3 is about half way done.**

 _ **Fate: Beyond,**_ **Ch. 2 is nearing my self-imposed word-quota, but I feel it still has a few more scenes to go before it's complete. But I may cut down to one more final scene before calling it done.**

 _ **Like a Fairy Tail,**_ **Ch. 2 is in the works; I know many of you have been looking forward to that, so that will also be coming in due time.**

 **My Destiny/Mass Effect story (as yet unreleased) is in minor limbo while I consider the validity of it, a Destiny/Star Wars crossover, and a Bloodborne/Berserk crossover. So many stories, no time to write them!**

 **Also I've been doing a lot with my YouTube as well, doing some Let's Plays and some Destiny and Destiny 2 lore** **content. Head on over and give it a look if you're interested! Just search for "Black Lister Destiny" and I'll be the first one up there!  
**

 **And without further ado, I present this 'ere pilot for _Not What Was, But Will Be._**

* * *

Dust. All he could see was dust, for miles. Wind whipped at his cloak, his hat tipping down to shield his eyes from the storm. His feet sank with every step, the loose sand flowing like water about his ankles. He didn't know how long he'd out there; if he had any concept of time, he'd long since cast it aside. Time existed for those bound by death, a final limitation that consumed too much of humanity's attention. He had only one focus; a singular determination.

His eyes focused on his shadow, long and dark, and getting more so in both forms. He turned from the sand and to the sky. The beating sun was setting. The air would soon cool, shadows fall, and moon rise.

Already he could see its light reflected in the blue evening sky, the cloudless ocean of air revealing its elusive host. It was something he was still not used to… the broken moon. He knew not the cause, only that it hurt to behold it. He'd wandered for so long, he sometimes fancied he'd been born of the sand. He _was_ the desert that surrounded him, consuming all life which wandered too brazenly into his course clutches.

A shadow covered his empty gaze, drawing him back to himself. But it was not the setting sun that left him in darkness, but the large, feathered form of the masked beast which haunted his steps. Finally it crept from its timidity and faced him directly.

He did not smile; to revel in the face of confrontation would be madness.

He did not frown; to dismay in the face of confrontation would be apostasy to himself.

He did the only thing that came naturally.

He flexed his right hand. A heavy, rusty _clunk_ as the blade of the saw swung out, locking into place as it became a cleaver.

He flexed his left hand. The action of a small canon the size of his forearm clicked into position.

They weren't really hands anymore. They were whatever weapons he chose. _He_ was a weapon. With a mind as vast as the cosmos.

He was a Hunter. The world was consumed by beasts. He could cleanse it; by fire, by blade, by all the arcane powers of the universe entire. By the blood in his veins and the eyes in his brain.

Yes, that which came _naturally_.

He laughed. A mirthless, uncontrollable, _wretched_ laugh.

The beast screamed and surged toward him.

He raised his weapon, its rustic red glint flashing in the gleam of the dying sun; the crystallized life-blood of the many thousands felled by it.

He brought it down.

The laughter didn't stop.

* * *

Voices. Hushed. Dim. Heard, but not understood. The blood in his vision slowly began to drain. He brought himself up, his body lifting at his whim, even as his limbs remained motionless. Back on his feet, he raised his head and regarded those before him.

Three of them. Dressed in an odd assortment of clothes. He met their gazes evenly. Their eyes belied their curiosity and distrust.

They spoke, but the blood still sung in his ears. They were loud… forceful. He lowered himself dangerously, his cleaver dragging in the sand as he approached.

Weapons appeared in their hands.

Ah, so that was how it was.

The red haze returned in his vision.

* * *

Ozpin slid the report across back across the table, letting the auto-streaming program drag data from it and project it into the air in front of him. Quietly, he leaned back in his chair, clutching his coffee mug in both hands, his legs crossing comfortably at the knees. His bespectacled eyes slowly, diligently scanned the information, taking in every word and committing them to memory. He took a sip.

Under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn't have paid it much mind, at least beyond keeping it in mind for some future necessity. But it was the _individual_ who sent it to him that had him so carefully pouring over the contents. After all it wasn't often someone like him got a direct line from the Head of the Vacuo Regional Defense.

Beside him stood old friend and fellow Beacon Academy staff member Glynda Goodwitch. Though to call her "staff member" might be putting it a bit too mildly. Without her, the school would be a mad house. More so than usual anyway. Add to it, she was privy to nearly all information in the school, including some of his own personal secrets. Actually, she was more like a secretary and confidant than teacher. For that reason, she examined the scroll's contents alongside him.

"Hm."

Her eyes turned to him with irritation. Not at the broken silence, but that the slight smile he had on his face as he settled back into his chair.

"And what exactly do you find so amusing?" she questioned with ice in her voice. He didn't take any offense at it; that was her normal tone. Passive-oppressive. "You get a call from the Head of Vacuo's Region Defense, and the first thing you do after reading it is to smile. If I didn't know you better I'd say you're as crazy as Qrow."

Ozpin's smile widened slightly as he took another sip, gently leaning forward to set it on his desk. "Come now Miss Goodwitch. Admittedly, I'd be lying if I said the man's personality didn't rub _a little_ off on me… But don't confuse my humor with indifference. I'm well aware of the gravity of the situation."

The woman returned her gaze before her, favoring the hand-held scroll over the extra-large hologram in the middle of the room. "An unidentified combatant crossed the border from Vacuo into Vale, injuring half a dozen border patrols in the process." She waved the scroll beside him. "I should _hope_ you're not 'indifferent.' This unprovoked, violent behavior will no doubt find its way here soon. The question is what we should _do_ with the information. Double our own patrols? Close down potential border crossings?"

Ozpin was silent for several seconds before pointed to the map in the middle of the room. "A good start, but you're missing the important point, Miss Goodwitch."

The woman raised an eyebrow at her friend and allowed him to continue. "Notice how the target is coming _out_ of Vacuo and into Vale. Next, notice the location of the various incidents. Three scuffles over a week's time in these areas." The map placed targets along the border of Vacuo where the border patrols had made contact with the stranger. Numbers floated beside the pointers, indicating the sequence in which the meetings took place.

Glynda narrowed her eyes and turned to the large hologram, trying to divine what Ozpin was inferring. After several seconds, silent seconds, she gave up. "I'm… not seeing it."

Ozpin simply gave a nod. It was one of _those_ nods of his; the kind that made you feel like he was about to reveal a super simple secret to a complicated equation. The kind that made you feel like an idiot for not seeing it sooner, but also made you admire his ability to come up with it on his own. "Perhaps if we have the map show local areas of interest."

He tapped a few buttons on his console and allowed the map to add more detail to itself. Names appeared next to areas of the map, indicating city regions and points of intrigue.

It took a few seconds before Miss Goodwitch caught scent of Ozpin's point. Her eyes narrowed incredulously. "The _Aureum Desertum_?" she questioned disbelievingly.

Ozpin gave a simple nod. "There's nothing for two hundred miles from the first point of contact. The pattern of conflict indicates this individual came _out_ of the Aureum."

Glynda returned her gaze to the hologram with a breath. The Aureum Desertum was an old name for the large stretch of sand that extended over most of the Vacuo-Vale border. Named for the golden color the sands took in the midday sun, the desert was known to claim at least a dozen lives every year. Mostly adventurers and extreme outdoors-men who liked to test their limits and set records. But even then, numerous individuals had been confirmed to have crossed it on foot in the past. It shouldn't be _that_ surprising…

But as she continued to read on, she found herself furrowing her brow more and more. The description of the interloper didn't seem to match up with a traveler. From how he was described, he didn't seem to be prepared for desert travel, nor were there any way-stations even _remotely_ close to his first sighting.

"So where did he come from then?" she questioned.

Ozpin's response only asked more questions. "They're not sure, and neither am I. According to reports, he was wearing dark, drab leather. Not exactly something you don under the blazing Vacuo sun."

There were several pictures attached to the report, most of the various wounds of Vucuan soldiers in medical facilities. Ozpin had no doubt the Vacuo Regional Defense wanted to push this issue onto him, selling it with a wrapping made of "complete assistance." But of the many photos, only one depicted the stranger. It was blurred, distorted, no doubt taken in the heat of battle by a personal surveillance device. In fact, the way the picture turned out seemed to exaggerate the culprit even more than he likely was. In the picture, he was swinging his weapon, described as a cleaver, at someone on the photographer's right, the shutter speed causing the swinging motion to blur the image.

"That's the only picture of him," Ozpin informed with a finger. "Not much to go on, is it?"

Glynda shook her head. "No, it isn't." She fell silent for several seconds. "What should we do if he comes here?"

Ozpin straightened himself and rose to his feet, snatching his familiar cane from its resting place against the lip of his desk. "As you suggested, we'll increase our patrols. But Vacuo's border guard is no joke. If this man could get through them, we'll need to do even better."

"You have something in mind?"

Ozpin smirked and nodded. "I was thinking that this could be valuable training for our students."

The woman simply stared at him in disbelief. "You _just_ said that we need to do better, and that somehow means sending children into harm's way?"

Ozpin held out a placating hand to calm his friend. "I hardly implied they'd be on the front. But I do believe if they sit back, away from most of the danger, they might learn something. Besides, it's possible this incident will blow over and never amount to anything. The man may be just trying to disappear. Who knows?"

Goodwitch sighed and relinquished a nod. "I suppose that's fair. Some of the students are already on a field trip within the area. I suppose reassigning them _would_ be easier than recalling them" She pulled out her scroll again and began tapping away at it.

Ozpin stared back at the large map, now focusing on the red pip that indicated the location of the aforementioned expedition. If the intruder _were_ to continue on into Vale, from his last known location, it would be within no more than fifty miles of the field trip. Despite the severity of the situation, the headmaster couldn't stop himself from smiling. He had many bright students at Beacon, and he was confident that they would be able to defend themselves. They were huntsmen and huntresses after all. In training or otherwise, they were fully capable of handling this... character. Besides, they were in the perfectly capable hands of-

* * *

"Professor Port~!"

The, appropriately, portly gentleman in red cringed slightly at the shrill voice of Nora Valkyrie calling out his name. He turned with a raised eyebrow and eyed the orange haired girl, jumping and waving her hands in that excited, bubbly way she so often exhibited. It was endearing of course, to a point, but he did wish she didn't have to do so while they were _hunting._

"Yes, Miss Valkyrie?" he finally responded.

The girl was practically jumping up and down on her toes as she turned and began frantically pointing to the side where her team was hiding in the brush, doing what _she_ was supposed to be doing; being quiet and looking for interesting specimens of Grimm and documenting their observations.

"Lookie lookie! C'mon! Check it out!" she rushed off and dove, quiet literally, into the foliage and into spotting position, binoculars already up to her eyes, a silly grin on her face.

Relenting, he followed her over and peeked through the brush, managing to not step on the four prone teens beneath him.

"Sorry, professor, but you know how she is," apologized Ren without taking his eyes from his own binoculars. Jaune raised his hand and offered his pair to his senior. The large man accepted them and brought them to his face, even as the hammer-wielding maniac pointed down towards the clearing below. They were perched atop a large rock formation that had long since grown plant life atop it. The surrounding area was mountainous and rocky, with large banks of mist hovering halfway up the great hills some distance behind them. It was this mountain range, which extended for most of the way across the Vale-Vacuo border, that was the cause of the large rain-shadow which kept the Vacuan desert as dry as a dustpan. However, the desert itself didn't start for many miles, and only existed as a distant horizon, even at their altitude.

The Beacon staff member aimed his sight in the direction the pinkette was pointing, spotting the black mass of a Grimm on the edge of the clearing below. There were various other teams about, including team RWBY and CRDL, all with the same directive, though not so far from himself that he wouldn't be able to help should the need arise. But he was confident that it wouldn't be an issue. They were all capable students in their own right. At the very least they'd be able to hold off any serious threat until he arrived.

"Hmm, yes. I see. It appears to be a Death Stalker. Strangely colored though." Indeed, though all Grimm were black with white armor trimmed in red, this particular Grimm seemed to have unique black patterns adorning it's back all the way up to its stinging tail. Upon closer inspection, it was missing it's left-most hind leg at the knee, and the tip of its right claw was flat, as if it'd been cut off or filed down. More likely the former. "I would wager it's an older Grimm. Probably upwards seventy or eighty years old."

Pyrrha Nikos took her eyes away from their specimen to look quizzically at her professor. "Is that more, like, middle-aged for a Grimm? You said they can live for hundreds of years."

"Indeed they do," he replied, "but Death Stalkers are well known for being aggressive and bold. Most don't live beyond half a century. To find one beyond a hundred years old would be quite the outlier. See the odd black etchings on its back? Those don't usually appear on a young Death Stalker. Be sure to write this down, one of you."

Ren raised the pencil in his right hand. "Got it."

"Why do they call them Death Stalkers?" Juane asked, focusing in on the beasts' appendages. "I mean, there's Ursa, Nevermores, Death Stalkers, Goliaths... Why don't they just call them, "Grimm bears,' or 'Grimm scorpions?' It makes more sense... right?'"

Pyrrha gave a small smile at her teammate's candor, even as she trained the sight of her rifle on the beast. She had no intention of firing it, but the hunter's scope was able to zoom further than a regular pair of binoculars. "I feel like that would be an insult to a normal animal."

"Yeah Jaune, you _need_ to have a flare for the dramatic!" Nora piped up, her excitement at having found a special Grimm showing through her ear-to-ear grin.

"Why? We've got the whole team's worth of 'dramatic' in one person," he replied, not even needing to throw a glance at the orange-head for her to giggle appreciatively.

A muffled beeping from Port's belt drew the four students' attention, even as the man lowered his binoculars and fished out his scroll. Flipping it open he scanned it's contents. Ordinarily professors on field trips weren't contacted unless something important had come up, lest the alert interrupt their work, be it delicate or otherwise.

A few seconds of silence was all he needed to read over it. "Oh dear. It seems we'll need to cut today's lesson a bit short," he announced sadly.

"Really?" Jaune asked before quickly amending, "I mean, what?! Why?"

With a press of a few buttons, a ring went out to all involved groups in the area. "I'll explain in a moment. Attention students," he spoke first to JNPR and then to his scroll, "This is Professor Port. Please respond with your immediate positions. Team JNPR."

"Right here!" Nora said with a raised hand and her trademark unending enthusiasm.

He gave an appreciative nod. "Obviously. Team CRDL."

 _"This is Cardin. We're about a kilometer south of your position."_ There was a moment before a ping appeared on his scroll. _"Found a lot of minor Nevermore down here. Nothing real interesting."_

"Yes, very good," Port said dismissively, knowing now that they were safe. "Team RWBY."

There was silence from the scroll.

"Team RWBY, are you there?"

Still more silence. Peter did his best not to let concern show on his face.

"Team RWBY, please respond."

The silence was followed by a distant _boom_ , deep and explosive in nature. Almost immediately after, the comm filled with static.

 _"H-Hello?! Professor? This is Ruby! Hey, listen, uh, we... maaaaybe... kinda, disturbed some of the local Grimm wildlife, aaaand... yeah. That's what we're doing. Disturbing the wildlife. Nothing else to report!"_ Her voice noticeably rose in pitch at the end, her nervous smile audible through the transmission.

Port's eye twitched. "Dist-! Ugh, Ms. Rose, I gave you _explicit_ instructions to stay _away_ from the Grimm and to _observe_ them. Not _pet_ them!"

A crackle of static over the scroll was echoed by another boom in the distance.

 _"I didn't_ pet _them! Well, I mighthavepickedatinyoneup, but it was so small and cute I thought it was harmless! How was I supposed to know it was a Taijitu's tail with a funny design on it!"_

Port didn't realize he had already palmed his face until his hand fell back to his side. "Ms. Rose, listen carefully. Stop... _antagonizing_ them and come back to us, and _don't_ bring the Grimm with you! Is that clear?"

 _"Um, clear! Yeah! Clear like crystal! Uh-huh! We just, um... might be a little bit!"_

Another rumble in the distance.

 _"...A lot a bit."_

Port gave a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose as the sound of additional explosions resounded through the forest. In the distance, a flock of Nevermore rose to the sky, no doubt the same ones that Cardin's team was observing.

"Sounds like Ruby alright," Jaune said with a smirk and a nudge to Pyrrha, who rolled her eyes with the same smile.

"Never mind that, we'll come to you. Just... Just give me your location," Port uttered in exasperation.

 _"Roger-dodger!"_

Pyrrha eyed the direction of the ensuing combat. "Do they really need our help, Professor?" she asked.

"Yeah! I mean, team RWBY is pretty strong," the youngest of the Arc family affirmed. "They can handle a Taijitu no problem, right?"

"A single Taijitu, or small group of them, I agree. And they're capable huntswomen, no doubt. _But_ , with all the commotion, there's no guarantee that they won't attract something larger, or more numerous."

"I'm betting on both!"

A collective groan exhaled from the four of them. "Nora!"

"What?" she asked innocently. "It's true and you know it; safest bet I've ever made!"

"She's not entirely wrong, you know," Ren commented offhandedly.

"Regardless," Port said, getting back on track. "Even if they _can_ handle it, there's no reason to leave our friends on their own. So! Are you ready to hunt some Grimm?"

"Ready, _and willing!_ " Nora responded, practically (literally) salivating at the opportunity.

Jaune and Pyrrha exchanged resigned smiles and shrugged to each other. "Sure. Why not?"

Port didn't want to concern the students with what might _actually_ be heading this way. No reason to bother until they were all gathered together.

* * *

Of course, it _would_ be a whole nest of Taijitu. At least a dozen of the things were now slithering about, snapping and hissing as they encircled the four girls. _Pairs_ by the way. So, twenty-four...ish snakes? _Ugh._

And it all started with her touching what she _thought_ was a cute little Grimm hiding beneath a bush.

"Why is it we always get caught up in one of _your_ messes?!" came the irritated voice of the Shnee heiress as she used her glyphs to leap away, out of reach of a black Taijitu.

"I'm sorry~!" the red cloaked huntress whined apologetically. "I just thought it was cute!" she cried as she slashed Crescent Rose at the head of the closest slithering thing to her.

"Grimm are NEVER cute!" the heiress countered.

A loud cry of fury accompanied a smashing explosion between the two, along with the blonde haired beauty that was Ruby's (half) sister, Yang.

"Fight now, argue over what's cute later!" she ordered with a pointed finger, her gauntlets still smoking from her last attack.

Weiss, for her part, didn't argue and leapt away to avoid being snapped up by a lunging snake.

"H-Hey! I'm team leader Yang! You can't tell me what to-EEP! Arguing later!" Ruby squeaked and also leapt away as the previous Taijitu's partner hissed at her dangerously.

In the thick of it, Blake was simply doing her best not to get eaten, her shadows getting devoured almost as fast as she could create them. Not one for talking on a good day, she remained mostly silent as she fought, knowing that, should her semblance fail her, her allies would have her back. Indeed, even as they all swung and sliced, shot and stabbed, they never left the sphere of each other's influence. Ruby's speed kept her well within range of anyone around her for half a mile, while Yang's explosiveness allowed her to throw or punch herself into an intercepting strike, should the need arise. Weiss was perhaps the shortest range fighter of the four, as Blake's _Gambol_ _Shroud_ could easily be swung on a strap like a kusarigama... and also had bullets. But Weiss' rapier, Myrtenaster, had no innate ranged function, special Dust cartridges aside. Her glyphs on the other hand, more than made up for her weapon's short reach. When you factored in her ability to modify her glyphs for almost any situation and use, the woman was a force to be reckoned with, as the miniature Taijitu horde was quickly discovering.

"Woohoo! Go Weiss!" cheered the blonde brawler as she slammed her fist into an armored snake's head. Wielding her glyphs like shields as she was, the Taijitu were, quite literally, beating their heads against a wall and quickly dispatched in their stunned stupor. She kept up the barrage of interchanging Dust attacks, using them to open up the Taijitu for her teammates to take advantage of. The Taijitu were smart, and heavily armored, as all Grimm were, on the head. But they were smart enough to hide themselves away from hunters, and with only Ruby and Yang having enough firepower to punch holes through the Taijitu, Blake was pulling distraction duty, and Weiss was supporting with damage and battlefield manipulation.

They were actually a well-oiled machine; it assured Ruby of what she, ultimately, already knew. They were _good._ And she knew that one day, they would be more than just 'good.' They would be unstoppable!

But the Taijitu certainly weren't going in guns blazing... or, rather, teeth flaring; they ducked, dodged and weaved, doing their damnedest to be an annoyance to the four huntresses. They'd only managed to actually kill three of them, and they were surrounded by all sides.

In any other situation, they'd be scared out of their wits, but they had the confidence bolster by allies, who were on their way. All the four had to do was survive until then. Still, it was strange the way the Taijitu didn't snake-pile on them. With their size and numbers, they could have easily overwhelmed the four teens, yet they didn't. Not to give themselves too little credit, but what exactly were they waiting for? If they tried their hardest right now, team RWBY wouldn't stand a chance. So what were they waiting for?

Ruby yelled as she swung her scythe upwards, attempting to decapitate one of the beasts that had its head raised, neck exposed. Her strike was intercepted by its mate's powerful jaws clamping down on the weapon. Her surprised stunned her for a moment, but that moment was all she needed for her original target to slither around and snap it's jaws at her. Using her semblance, she quickly flipped around the handle of Crescent Rose, out of harm's way, and pulled the trigger on the weapon, the force of which sent the blade deep in to the roof of its captor's mouth. She fired again, this time cleaving through half its skull. She fired a fourth time, bringing the blade near to freedom.

"Let... go... stupid... snake!" she grumbled between each shot.

But before she could fire a fourth, the Taijitu she'd evaded returned with a vengeance. While her impromptu Grimm steed reeled in pain, lifting itself higher into the air, the other surged from beneath, it's jaws wide open and venom dripping from its fangs.

Ruby paled. "Uh oh, not good!"

"Ruby!"

With a roar and flash of gold, an armored gauntlet smashed into the head of her enemy, driving it fully down onto and through Crescent Rose's sharpened blade. With a flip, Ruby narrowly escaped being Grimm food. "Thanks Yang!" Ruby said with a smile, even as the mild panic of her possible, potential, maybe near-death experience faded in her chest. But hey, that was basically every other Tuesday, right?

"There's too many of them!" Weiss complained as she evaded three Taijitu using her glyphs to step into the air.

"We have to hold out for Professor Port and the others," Blake reaffirmed as the group came together backs to backs.

The hissing around them increased in intensity as a dark shadow emerged from the treeline around them. Their eyes widened fearfully; it was another Taijitu, but this one was a mix of both white and black, the two colors twisting around its body in a spiral.

Unlike it's brethren, its mask was far more intricate, not to mention expansive. instead of just the top of the snake's face, it also grew down and covered the lower jaw. A second pair of fangs, like bones, protruded from the mask's lips. And when it opened its mouth, it's true fangs were bared, deadly poison sliding like thin mucous down its teeth.

The heat of its breath nearly made Weiss double over from nausea, but she held firm, readying her glyphs and reloading Myrtenaster with a new cartridge of assorted Dust. Yang brushed a phantom bruise from her mouth, an energetic, determined smile gracing her lips, even as she bounced on the balls of her feet. Blake checked her scroll, making sure her aura hadn't taken too much damage.

Ruby held Crescent Rose tight in her hands. This was going to be a close one.

A sudden flash of light and ringing of steel snapped all four to attention. The Taijitu recoiled sharply, hissing and coiling into itself in pain. Ruby blinked as the other Taijitu seemed to suddenly back away, their aggression turning to skittishness. The large one thrashed its head vigorously, hissing in anger as it did. Ruby then saw the reason why. Embedded in its skull was a large black slab of jagged metal, one side sharp, the other serrated and sinister.

Before Ruby could utter a word of confusion, the shadow of a form stood atop the beasts' crown, gripping the offending object with a single hand. With a single move, it ripped the weapon free. Though to call it such certainly triggered Ruby's OCD; the thing could barely be called sensible, let alone a weapon. Ruby wasn't the smartest, nor the quickest witted girl in Beacon, nor even on her own team, but when it came to weapons old or (especially) new, her analytical skills were second to very few. From what she could tell, it was a simple device; just a hunk of metal. One side had a curved, sharpened edge, while the other side was serrated. This was attached and held by way of a curved handle that was longer than her arm. Though, it _had_ just killed a Taijitu... But as her attention turn from the weapon to its wielder, she felt her breath slow in her chest.

Tall, clad in a black, ashen coat, with long sleeves and thick gloves. On his head was a folded cap, like an old sailor's tricorn, with feathery wings arcing back, a dark cloth wrapped over his face. He rose from his crouch, slower than seemed sensible, being surrounded by Taijitu as they were, but yet the Grimm didn't take advantage. Quite the opposite actually, their hissing of panic had turned to a quiet hunger; the entire knot of nightmarish reptiles circled. The newcomer's gaze was low, hidden by the bill of his cap, but the way his head lazily cocked left and right belied his awareness.

Ruby noticed now how he held the... "weapon" in his right hand, and in his left he held a firearm. It wasn't a gun, at least not any kind she'd seen before. Actually that wasn't entirely true; if she recalled, professor Port had one quite similar. Oh, what were they called again...? It was the size of a common rifle, though it looked like it weighed three times as much, and the way he hefted it in a single-handed grip hinted at his raw physical strength.

And speaking of the absent faculty member... _'Man, I hope professor Port gets here soon...!'_ she thought worriedly.

But in the blink of an eye; the passage of an instant in time, her body reacted before she could think, Crescent Rose ringing painfully from the impact of their weapons. _'Wha-?'_

She spun, whirling her scythe instinctively. Her blade caught his, even as he slung his firearm on his shoulder, over his neck, and pointed at eyes met.

Silver eyes, like the pale moonlight echoing off the surface of the water gazed into crimson. Like the red of the sun as it dips deep into the horizon, but clouded like moonlit fog. She saw then something she'd never seen before. Of all the times she'd observed people, she'd never really noticed their eyes as anything other than interesting. But this person... his eyes were so much more than that; there was a depth therein... A strange sensation. She couldn't quite place it exactly, but for the brief instant that their gazes met, she felt as if she were staring into an abyss so deep, her mind couldn't fully fathom it.

And then their fingers, poised as they were against their respective triggers, pulled. Hammers met shells and the barrels lit with fire.

It was an eerie moment. Ruby had heard of moments when during a fight, time might appear to stand still. A result of your brain suddenly doping on adrenaline, and the stretching of one's perception to its limits. The ripples of air as the projectiles tore through the space between them. The crumpling of metal as both impacted each other; bullet to bullet.

Then time rapidly accelerated, their weapons clashing with a violent clang. Both whirled away from each other, and Ruby managed to put some distance between the man and herself. It as only a few seconds' reprieve as her team came to her aid, lining up beside her in confusion and concern. The Grimm seemed to be warily giving them space, though the girls kept sharp eyes on them regardless.

"What the in the world?" Weiss exclaimed as she directed her attention to the mysterious figure. "Where did he come from? And why is he attacking you?!"

"Looks like he wants a piece of all of us," Yang commented as she settled into her usual stance, weapons ready to launch a barrage of dust at whoever might attack.

Indeed, the man's attention seemed to be focused, not _solely_ , but _mostly_ on them. The way he his eyes flicked from Grimm to human seemed the same as they. Blake, with her previous combat experience had a pretty good idea what he was doing; he was triaging threats, and apparently from the way he seemed to be eyeing them, they were the pretty high on his list.

"He's coming...!" the faunus alerted the moment she saw the telltale signs of movement. As well she did; no sooner had the words left her mouth did he attack.

* * *

Beasts everywhere. Beasts to his left. Beasts to his right. Misshapen monsters of all sizes on all sides. But he was a Hunter; his was to cut down every beast and rid the place of their filth. And yet... so many of them! Not that he hadn't faced insurmountable odds before and come out the victor, but... By the gods... _So many!_ And yet for every beast he slew, a new one took it's place. First the beasts of the desert, and now the beasts of the forest... Did their numbers know no limit?

And now this thing... this little, _red_ thing. Oh! How the world spun in his vision! The smell of beasts covered the place, and their warped visages surrounded him. And the four beasts before him... the dozens behind _them..._ He would hunt them all to extinction.

But those four... the quartet of creatures... they didn't die as easily as the others. They spun, they whirled, they cut and they crushed. Every narrowly avoided slash, every grazing blow, his eternity of reflexes and instincts serving him well. He could smell their confusion, and it sent thrilling chills down his limbs. He was after all, a Hunter; the predators had turned to prey, and they couldn't understand the why or how of it. The blood... it _sang_ to him. Sickened him with its sweetness.

All the world was dyed in crimson, and yet, a red even more red than blood stood out the most. A blood-red thing spilling red blood... What a curious oddity. The way it twisted and spun, it's singular large claw lashing out at him, and the smaller fangs of it's companions. And yet for every wound he avoided, they too avoided him. They were fast prey, to be sure. But he'd fought faster. Their mouths opened, roars and grunts bellowing dimly in his ears. Their eyes focused solely on him, save that they glanced at their larger fellows behind them. As well they should. He was the greatest of prizes for any would-be rival. They shouldn't let any of the lesser beasts steal him from beneath their noses. Even more so, all predators should be wary of other predators. Those who stand at the top had the farthest for fall after all.

And yet how strange these creatures moved. Like those others he'd encountered in the desert. They stood upright, with two slender arms wielding their various claws. Spurts of light erupted from them, catching him off guard. Two of the lights landed into his left shoulder, snapping him around and forcing him back. So they could spit too? Ah, the red one had done so before, hadn't she? He paid his new wounds no mind. White light nearly blinded him as strange circles appeared around him like snow falling. Did they bring the snow? No, that was absurd. The blackened shadow of a beast was annoying. For every slash or shot he was certain landed true, it seemed to appear elsewhere, unharmed. And the golden one? Like a ferocious lion who tried to bring him into its clutches. He would not let it. And then the red one. Redder than the red that painted the world around him. Its speed worried him. A scything blade-like claw. It was nothing new to him; he'd fought many like it before. But its speed kept him nearly off balance. The way it's reach was longer than the others concerned him the most, and he knew to sidestep it's spitting fire.

But there was more. Fire and light, flashing weapons and spurting blood. All around him the serpents began to die, courtesy of even more bipedal creatures. He felt his blood surge through his veins. Let the beasts kill each other, and the survivors will be prey worthy of his attention. These two legged shadows were something to behold, even as prey. The way they dispatched the surprised snakes with ease, and the way they moved... like birds flitting to and fro, from monster to monster.

Monsters fighting monsters.

He let loose a hail of buckshot with his gun, catching the beasts in its barrage. The moment they staggered, he rushed in for the kill. But these prey, they fought for each other. Two intercepted him and threw him back. Ah, a pack, eh? Then they would die like dogs.

But more and more joined the fray, the larger beasts' numbers dwindling. And with their inclusion, came less room for him to maneuver. Less time was spent attacking, and more time spent avoiding.

But it was very... unsettling. Though phantasmic shadows, the way they moved, the way they struck seemed familiar, and not in the way it should have been. Beasts had no patterns. Only instincts. They had no form. Only passion. Yet these things... he beheld a methodology that didn't exist in any beast he'd encountered before. No, even then, he'd fought semi-intelligent opponents before. These didn't fight like them either. If anything, it was less like fighting beasts and more like...

Hunters.

A strange sensation roiled over him. A creeping blindness replaced by sight; the red mist, that blood-induced toxicity that haunted the darkest recesses all Hunters' thoughts, retreated from his mind. For the first time since he couldn't remember when, his eyes, his _true_ eyes, opened, and he knew the world around him. The clarity was instant. _'How... could I not know my own eyes were closed...?'_ he wondered only for a moment before reality set in.

These were not beasts he was fighting. They were people.

In the passing of a moment, he took in the scene; ten, no... a dozen men and women danced around him, weapons of varying sizes and shapes held in their hands. Some familiar, most not. All of them poised and pointed at him.

Momentum lost to his revelation, he backpedaled. There would be little point in asking them to hold. He knew first hand how dangerous and intimidating blood addled Hunters could seem, and _be_. He could only imagine their trepidation. Their very faces betrayed them; fear. Yet, determination remained. Good for them; that would serve them well.

However, he needed to find a lull long enough to plead cessation.

A new scent. A sweetness, like... sugar?

His head whirled, gaze meeting the business end of a great, steel mallet.

"Now, Nora!"

The words, uttered by one of the others, were followed by an overly eager grin from the young woman, her peachy-orange hair flowing in the wind.

"Hammer...!"

The weapon eclipsed his vision.

"...DOWN!"

* * *

Ozpin sipped his hot beverage contentedly, a pleasant smile on his lips as he watched the students in his office relax as they gave their report.

"I think that went rather well, actually," the headmaster commented happily, eyeing the young men and women.

"I assure you headmaster, I rushed to help them as soon as I understood the situation!" Port said, concern in his voice as he tried to assure him of his actions.

Ozpin waved off the man's concern. "It's quite alright, Peter. I'm sure you did," he said with full honesty. "Tell me," he turned, addressing the twelve students before him. "How did it end exactly?"

The three teams, CRDL, JNPR, and RWBY, all stood side by side, their abridged reports having already been given just moments earlier.

Jaune Arc, the de-facto leader of team JNPR, spoke up. "Well, Nora-"

"I hit him with my hammer!"

Ozpin gave the excited girl a raised eyebrow. He'd been exposed once or twice to Nora Valkyrie's peculiar temperament, though he couldn't say he disliked it. If anything, although it made her a handful to deal with, her rambunctiousness made her a refreshing breath of air to the normally nervous and reserved student body. At least in his presence.

"You don't say?" he replied with an amused smile.

"What was that you said when you hit him anyway? I didn't catch it," the Arc boy asked, shrugging his shoulder curiously.

"Hammer down," she quoted simply. "It's a line from a game I've gotten into recently."

"Ooh ohh! I know that game! I _so_ want to play it but I never have time!" Ruby cried eagerly, her face brightening into blissful daydreams. "Reaper is my favorite~!"

Yang fixed her sister with a skeptical look and planted a hand on her hip. "You just like the name, don't you?"

"Nuh-uh!" Ruby defended, even while she pantomimed firing a pair of guns in her hands. "He's got two shot guns too!"

"Ladies." They girls blinked back to the headmaster as he gestured to the aggregate of students and faculty members before them, silently asking, with some measure of bemusement, whether they might continue.

Nora looked away and scratched the back of her head while Ruby had the sense to shuffle her feet apologetically. "Oh, right. Sorry."

"So where is the culprit now?" Ozpin prodded, turning back to Goodwitch, his hands folded beneath his chin.

"He's currently in the infirmary recovering. I've already taken precautions to have him restrained and guarded. These are his effects." The woman turned and lifted a... rather sizable crate with her wand, plopping it on the headmaster's desk, an action that caused Jaune to raise an eyebrow suspiciously.

"What, you just took his stuff? Isn't that basically stealing?"

Ozpin gave a nod. "Regrettable as it is, the... patient, is a suspected criminal. We believe he is behind the attack on several Vacuo patrols in the past week."

"Besides, it's not really theft," spoke the blonde female in their midst. "I'm sure the headmaster is just... holding onto them. For safekeeping." Of course, the obligatory wink implied to true nature of the situation prompting a sagacious look from the man in green.

Nora brought her hands together and cracked her knuckles, wiggling them suspiciously as she approached the case. "Well, so long as no one's around to complain..."

A swift snap made the teen recoil, the whip of Goodwitch smacking her across the wrist. "As a suspected criminal, all of these items are to be thoroughly examined as part of the investigation."

"Oh it's quite alright, Miss Goodwitch," Ozpin assured as he stood from his chair, coming around to the forefront of his desk. "A young one's curiosity is a thing to be admired. If they wish to see them, then they shall.."

The excitement lit up the many faces in the room.

"... _After_ the investigation." The emotional one-eighty their expressions made brought a humored smile to his lips as he planted his hands on his cane before him. "Now then... I'd advise all of you to head back to your rooms for a _well_ deserved rest."

The dismayed faces brightened at the idea of a break and they nodded their heads respectfully towards the headmaster, even as Port heckled them to complete their reports before the end of the week as they filed out the door.

However one lone, little girl remained, turning back to her elders with some measure of uncertainty.

"A question, Miss Rose?" Ozpin prodded with an inviting smile, the kind he hoped he'd be remembered for. The girl, uncharacteristically hesitant, took her time answering. "Headmaster, I... uh..." The man waited patiently, a talent he had learned long ago that had done him well in his teaching career. Sometimes silently allowing one to sort through their thoughts did more good than pestering them to spit it out.

"I don't think he's a bad guy."

Ozpin's surprised expression must have been more evident than he expected, but he wasn't alone. Evidently his peers shared his feelings quite accurately. They each shared a look, prompting the grey haired man to beg the question. "And... why do you think that, Miss Rose?"

The girl was silent, her silver eyes flitting back and forth in their sockets, as if she herself were searching for a reason, or perhaps just a way to explain it. "Just... a feeling." The look she gave Ozpin was so innocent and pure, it nearly made the grown man cry.

He let out a short laugh and gave the girl a proud look. "I hope you're right, Miss Rose; I hope you're right."

The girl gave a short smile and turned around, leaving the three alone in the room.

"Children truly are inspirational, aren't they?" The portly professor said, a smile hidden beneath his mustache.

Ozpin couldn't help but nod his head in agreement. "They never cease to surprise me either, Port."

Their proud rumination was cut short by a tone from Ozpin's desk. Reaching over with his cane, the headmaster tapped the com-key and spoke. "Yes?"

The voice that came through was gruff and serious, and yet _suspiciously_ apologetic. _"We have a problem, headmaster."_

Ozpin's eyes narrowed unpleasantly. "What kind of problem?"

* * *

The first thing he noticed was the light. The room was very bright, synthetic bulbs in the ceiling burned down on him, offset by the natural sunlight pouring in from several windows spotting the walls. On either side of him was a dividing sheet, bluish-white in color, and a blue, course sheet lay over his body. A faint pressure on his limbs revealed themselves to be restraints that wrapped around his wrists and ankles. An understandable, if now necessary precaution. A wave of nausea hit him like a hammer to the cranium, as an intense, pounding pain echoed back and forth in his skull. He blinked slowly, his bearing slowly gathering to himself. He'd have brought a hand up to massage his temples, had he the unrestrained mobility to do so.

As it was, he recalled the massive great-hammer he'd been struck with, and found it no wonder he felt as aching as he did. And yet, though pain often brought great frustration or anger to most who suffered it, he could not bring himself to blame them for bringing it upon him.

 _'Them...'_ Now there was a sudden, insightful question. Who were _they?_ Of how he got here, he had no memory, and yet, he knew he was not where he was from. He was... elsewhere. _'Elsewhere. Methinks... a fitting name.'_ The hows and the whys would come to him in time, he was confident, but for the moment, he was as clueless as an amnesiac. Sadly, it seemed in this case he _was_ an amnesiac. Thankfully only short-term; he knew himself, who he was supposed to be.

He glanced about the room, his attention now acutely sharpening as drowsiness faded away. There were no doctors talking in their unique medicinal linguistics, nor nurses shuffling about doing their busywork. But he was admittedly more astonished by the cleanliness of the room around him. The stark white, tiled floors were featureless, and yet he beheld no marring upon them; no stains or scuffs, no scraps of paper or plastic. He'd seldom been in a room so curiously well-kept.

And yet he beheld a strange anomaly to the abnormally opaque white-wash room. A strange sound trickled into his ears. Was that... laughter?

Looking over to the closest window, he supposed he might have heard it from through there. Flexing his limbs he tested the strength of the metal links that connected to his cuffs. They were thin; thinner than he might have expected, or rather, than he was used to. With a grunting strain, he pulled his arms against the frame of his bed, hearing the aching squeal of ending metal as he finally pulled the restraints apart with a muted _clang_. He frowned as he rubbed his wrists, now aching from the cuffs that had dug into them, and still clung to them yet. His ankles, thankfully, had only been bound with leather wraps, which he unbuckled swiftly.

Swinging the covers off himself, he found he'd been redressed in a simple hospital gown, tied together behind his back. He frowned, finding the invasion of privacy only minutely forgivable, given the circumstances. Regardless, he'd do his best to pay it no mind as he placed his bare feet on the cold floor. It wasn't the creaking wood or rough stone he was used to, but it wasn't... unpleasant. It's smooth texture felt clean and sanitary; a word not often used to describe clinics he'd been in. He pushed himself up, testing his balance, only to find himself not unsure in the slightest, despite, or perhaps because of the now subsiding pounding in his head.

He placed one foot in front of the other as he exited his curtained little alcove. Noticing a stack of surgical needles, wrapped as they were in a thin, clear material he'd not seen before, he plucked one from it's resting place and tore the bag open, retrieving the needle within. He turned it on his handcuffs absently, even as he followed his curiosity towards the window. By time he'd gotten his first cuff off, he was face-to-windowpane. And what he saw, he was not ready for.

It was _children._ Young men and women both, walking and talking in a great courtyard below, their colorful outfits, and indeed the colorful grounds seemed to strike him in the face with their brazenness. The brightly lit blue sky, the golden sun, the verdant lawn, and steely stone pathways... the happy, careless expressions on the every student's face...

He felt his heart beat hard in his chest as it fought against his forgetfulness to breathe, which he now realized and resumed. He imagined his expression must have been quite the sight to see, for if any of the shock he was feeling made it onto his face, he must have been an absurd thing to behold indeed.

Surely, Elsewhere was a fitting moniker for this place, for nothing seemed to remind him of where he was from, with it's dingy macabre and dank and dark and dirty and dismal streets.

Young though he might be, he was surely older than these young men and women. More to the point, he'd never seen so many at once, and certainly never so brazenly, standing carefree in the sunlight. How he wished he knew where he was... _and_ why he was here.

A sudden feeling of nakedness brought him back to himself, reminding him that his possessions were no longer _in_ his possession. A quiet clicking of his tongue showed his displeasure as he looked around the room. It seemed there was a single door that led in or out, and no doubt it was guarded against his escape. And no sooner had he considered it did the door slide open with a startling hiss. In walked a physician with white overcoat, dark hair and glasses pushed up to the brim of his nose. In his hands he held a tray full of items he could not identify.

However, all the doctor saw was an empty room, devoid of life or movement, save the fluttering of curtains that framed an open window.

...

He landed with a audible thump, and he could have sworn he heard a crack in there somewhere. His grimaced as his ankles ached in protest. It seemed that, to his benefit, there was a long stretch of hedges that ran along the length of the clinical building, incredibly massive as he now beheld its outside. He ignored the pain in his feet and hurried along it, staying within the shadow of the foliage long enough to get away from any elevated prying eyes.

Unfamiliar though he was with the grounds he found himself on, he knew that he would stand out like a sore thumb if he went around in only his medical gown. First thing was first, and that was to obtain sufficient clothing. But seeing as he hadn't a clue where his own clothes were, he would likely have to... _procure_ some from an unwitting individual. Fortunately for him, there was an abundance of unwitting men and women, just his size, all around him.

Deeming his current hiding place sufficient for the time being, he crawled into the underbrush and did was he did best; he waited. On the other side of the brush was a bench which sat beneath a leafy orange tree. As expected, it wasn't long before one such unsuspecting student came to sit beneath the shade of the leaves, cracking open a book and turning their attention to their studies.

Imagine their surprise.

A coy ruffling of the bushes drew their attention, luring them closer until they were within reach. A short headlock later and the boy was passed out flat on his back, hidden carefully beneath the brush. He bore the boy no ill will, nor any desire for harm, and so left him be, against his better judgement. At the very least he supposed he'd have enough time to find his things and be on his way as speedily as possible, before the boy recovered and an alarm was called.

When he finally emerged from his hiding nook, he examined the other students around him, searching for any sign that he appeared out of place. Thankfully, he noticed none. It seemed, although many of those around him wore outfits of a unique and colorful nature, there were others who wore uniforms, likely pertaining to the facility that seemed to span for as far as he could see. Was this perhaps an academy for young scholars? Perhaps it was safe to assume so. He'd play it by ear and see how far he could get. With a quick adjustment of his tie, he gave a wary glance around and started toward the largest building. If his instincts were right, anyone of particular import would be there, and if they were as startled by him as he was by them, they likely had his things impounded somewhere inside. Granted, it wasn't a surefire thing, but it was a place to start.

* * *

Ruby let out a sizable yawn as she pleasantly strolled down one of the many courtyards of Beacon Academy. The school's ground truly were massive, including even a sky dock for large airborne vessels of staggering magnitude. Truthfully, the amount of time it took going from one class to another was only as short as it was because all classes were held in relative proximity to the main building. Any other facilities were some ways away, assuring that if one woke up late for class, they'd likely miss half of it before they actually arrived. Yang, Blake and Weiss walked beside her, taking in the familiar sights and sounds as they rested their minds from the day's weary debacles. After all, they did fight a horde of Grimm serpents for the better part of an hour before assistance came. Granted, the strict and punishing Huntsman training regiment imposed by their professors meant they were in tip top physical shape, they're endurance was considerably inhuman. They had their aura to thank for that. But after that came the time to replenish one's aura, and that was where the tired came in.

"Man, I'm _beat,_ " the midget expressed with a pleasant smile, her thoughts dwelling on the work she would shirk off and the bed she would plop on.

"We all are," Blake agreed with a similarly satisfied grin; the grin of a hard day's work come to a end.

Yang combed her fingers through her long golden locks as she stretched her hands into the sky and letting them rest behind her head. "Well, we did fight a metric ton of Grimm after all. It's to be expected."

"And that lunatic, don't forget him," the white clothed, and haired added.

"Oh, how _could_ we?" Yang questioned with obvious sarcasm as she rolled her eyes.

"At least it ended quickly," Blake said with joyous pride "His aura must have been severely depleted before Nora hit him. _And_ none of us were hurt in the process."

"Which makes him an idiot in _addition_ to a lunatic for fighting us while that exhausted."

Ruby gave a short sigh as her thoughts drifted to the stranger they'd subdued in the forest. The single hit from Nora's hammer had made such a resounding _crack_ that she'd felt a shiver run up her spin at the sound of it. Nora certainly was strong; she'd briefly worried they'd killed the man. A quick pulse-check had confirmed he was indeed alive, though to what extent his injuries extended, they had no way of knowing. "I sure hope he's OK..." she mumbled audibly, neither to herself nor specifically to the others.

But they put their two cents in anyway.

" _How_ can you worry about a guy like that?" Yang questioned her younger sister. "I mean, he attacked us out of nowhere!"

"But he was also fighting the Grimm!" Ruby was quick to counter. "I wonder if he was just so tired he couldn't tell friend from foe..."

"His aura _was_ incredibly low," Blake conceded with a noncommittal shrug. Yang rolled her eyes again as Weiss folded her arms, shaking her head, neither wanting to argue for or against the point. Their work was _done_ for the day. Comments and/or questions could be continued tomorrow after a loooong night's sleep.

* * *

 _The resounding_ crack! _was followed by a pregnant, surreal silence as every Huntsman and Huntress waited with baited breath for the conclusion to their brawl. The man, head eclipsed by Nora's giant steel hammer, stood stock still for a moment, frozen in place. Then, slowly, as if time had been paused and resumed, he tumbled to the ground, flat on his back._

 _"YEAHHH! Now that's what I call a hammer-head!" the orangette celebrated in delight as she stood over the victim like a "proper" victor. The various teams let out a cumulative sigh of relief that the fight was over, if not a little surprise, and stepped closer. Professor Port was the first to the limp body, fingers to the man's neck. After an assuring nod to the children, he pulled out a pair of cuffs from... Hmm, where_ had _he puled those cuffs from?_

 _Ruby would probably wonder that for a while._

 _Clicking them over the man's wrists, the portly gentleman called out to team CRDL to signal for a bullhead to come pick them up for emergency extraction. Even if the tide of Grimm had abated for now, they were still in enemy territory, and it wouldn't do to continue on after having caused such a ruckus. With an "oomph!" the large man lifted the body over his shoulder, holding him there with a single hand, mumbling something about not being young and spry anymore, to which Pyrrha and Yang giggled under their breath at._

 _Ruby held a hand over her chest and breathed a sigh of relief. When the strange adversary stood himself before them, she'd half expected him to be the stereotypical surprise hero, come to save the day with a chauvinistic sense of honor and pride! But those expectations seemed to slide away the moment he ripped his weapon, strange and clunky as it appeared, from the head of the mortally wounded King Taijitu. She couldn't quite place_ why _it had unnerved her. She'd sliced and diced numerous Grimm more times than she could count, and she may have admittedly enjoyed a lot of it. But the way he did so made it seem like, and maybe this was just her imagination talking, but... It seemed like he was... savoring? Savoring the sensation of his weapon being freed from the monster's flesh. It didn't really make sense to her how or why she felt compelled to believe that, but she did. She was probably wrong, of course, but uncle Qrow_ had _always said to follow her gut instincts..._

 _She stood over the man, as did they all once the area was secure. The feathered tricorn that had covered the brim of his eyes now lay discarded beside him, blood streaming slowly from his head wound. She knelt down, plucking the hat from the verdant grass, examining it as she turned it this way and that. She noticed how it was caked with a flaking red-_

 _She blinked, shaking her head. The rest of his attire was splashed with the same color, and she didn't need to be a genius to know it wasn't fresh and it likely wasn't his. But say what you might about her, Ruby Rose wasn't someone who assumed the worst about anything or anyone. It might have been a friend's, or it might have been Grimm blood; though their bodies decayed like rising ash, Grimm blood often stained many a Huntsman's clothes. At the very least, there was no reason to assume he was a killer on that alone; even with his unwarranted aggression not minutes earlier._

 _She folded the article in her hands down the middle, it already having long since been creased by wear and tear, and tucked into her back pocket._

* * *

She reached behind and pulled it out, examining the hat with mild curiosity. She wondered why she hadn't handed it over when they'd confiscated the man's things... Sure, of all things his hat probably wouldn't be missed, and probably wouldn't be of any significant importance... But those were just excuses, and she didn't know why she was even making them. Still, she found herself drawn to the article of clothing with an unnatural, though not oppressive intrigue. Perhaps it was the nature of the color; the grime, burgundy stains on olive green so drab it might have been grey. Perhaps it was the design of the structure; the way its point dipped low over the man's eyes when he wore it, and the way that point swooped back into two feathery tufts. It was a question she didn't have an answer to.

Maybe that was the real question; the question of why she questioned herself.

"Wait, isn't that the crazy-man's hat?"

Yang's voice broke her from her inner musings, drawing her back to the world around her. The spoken question drew the attention of both Blake and Weiss as they looked over at the cap in the girl's hands.

"It is," Blake affirmed, leaving no room for doubt, even if Ruby wanted to cast any. "I remember him wearing it."

Weiss simply crossed her arms, shifted her hips, and arced an eyebrow in a way only she could; a very Weiss way.

To her credit, the little girl had the decency to look sheepish at being caught. "I, ah, well... I thought it looked... neat?" She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes begging for some sort of sympathy from her squad-mates. Even if she didn't get it, it wasn't likely they'd rat her out for it.

Fortunately, JNPR and CRDL had separated on their way out of Ozpin's office, off to do their own thing, which since they weren't heading back to the dorms, was likely eating or training. Hell, they might even go to a movie. Oh man, movie theater popcorn sounded really good right about now...

"That's your excuse?" Weiss asked incredulously, though why she was surprised at this point in their relationship, she didn't know.

"Well...!" Ruby opened her mouth to speak up but no excuse come out. "...I don't know... I just... I just kind of... _did_ it _._ "

The concerned looks from Weiss and Blake were eclipsed by the jacketed sideboob of her elder sister as she pulled her under her arm and ruffled her hair vigorously. "Awwww! My little sister's first kleptomaniac compulsion! I'm so proud of you, Ruby!"

Narrowing her eyes irritably, the pale eyed girl wriggled her way out of her sister's grip, puffing her cheeks out in " _kawaii"_ frustration. "Yaaang! I am _not_ a kelpto! I just grabbed it and forgot I had it! And what do you think your doing, trying to suffocate me with your..." She struggled to think of a public-appropriate idiom. "...Marshmallows?!"

Yang glanced down and patted herself approvingly. "Pretty damn _big_ marshmallows if I say so myself." The rolling of eyes was audible, though Ruby knew that none of them bought her explanation one bit, which was fine; she didn't really have a reason she _could_ give them. Maybe if she let them keep pestering her she'd find one?

So focused was she on her friends that she didn't pay any mind to her feet as they walked her right into something, or rather, some _one_ bigger than her. Newton's third law was a harsh mistress. Or was it the first law? Whichever one it was, it knocked her clean to the ground, a black-clad young man falling right along with her.

She landed with a resounding oo _mph!_ When she managed to sit up enough to see what had sent her sprawling in the first place, she was met by the concerned gaze of her team and a boy. He had a fair complexion (or what Yang might call a "pretty face"), and vibrantly bright orange eyes that stood out from his pale skin and silver hair. She blinked stupidly at him for several seconds before she realized he was talking to her.

"My apologies miss Rose, I'm afraid I wasn't watching where I was going!" He was on his feet in an instant, his hand extended down toward the pancaked Huntress. "Are you alright?"

Shaking her head, Ruby gave him a reassuring smile and waved off his concern as she accepted his hand up. With an effortless heave, she was back on her feet, a motion she noticed drew the attention of her elder sister. "Pshh, don't worry about it. Its not a normal day if I don't run into someone."

The boy's face softened in relief, his stern shoulders relaxing as he looked down at her. He was a good foot taller than her, putting him at a little over six feet tall. He was dressed in the standard Beacon uniform, which accented his features nicely; black was a wonderful color in fashion. The boy looked as if he wanted to speak more, but his eyes flitted from hers to the central building beyond. "Forgive me, I'd apologize further but I'm in a rush for meeting with my instructor."

"Oh! No, yeah! Sure! I know the feeling. Don't let us hold you up!" She shooed him away, not wanting to take up any more of his time, lest his instructor (whoever they may be) decide to give him an extra assignment or two. She'd been on the receiving end of _that_ particular hell more than once.

The boy seemed to hastily bow at the waist, even as he backpedaled, turned about, and continued his run towards the central building.

Yang raised her eyebrows provocatively. "Wow... Anyone get the number on that hunk?"

"Wish I had," Blake teased competitively as they turned back on their way.

Weiss however was decidedly less chipper. "Does anyone else think that was really weird? I mean, he knew your name."

Yang shrugged her shoulders unconcernedly. "U~uh. We are pretty famous 'round here. Is it really that surprising we'd get recognized?"

The white haired girl considered it for a moment before shaking her head negatively. "No, I guess not..."

"I mean," the blonde continued undeterred as she counted on her fingers, "we have the heiress to the biggest Dust company on the planet, a former member of the White Fang (obviously on the down-low), the brightest rising star in Beacon," she ruffled Ruby's hair again, "and _me_." She planted her fists on her hips heroically. "No explanation needed."

Ruby reset her hair, giggling at her sister's self-confidence. Still, it had been a little strange that someone she'd never seen before in her life might know who _she_ was. Maybe that was just part of being a celebrity (if she did say so herself).

A strange feeling washed over her, causing her steps to slow. _'Wait,'_ she thought suddenly. Had she seen him before? He looked vaguely familiar... But what was it? Was it his hair? His height? His eyes? Actually, now that she thought about it, there _was_ something about him that seemed unsettlingly familiar-

"Hey Ruby," Yang called, her faux bravado abandoned in genuine curiosity, "where's that hat you had?"

Ruby went stock-still, her hands patting her body down with lightning's speed. "W-wha-? Where'd it go?! I just had it!"

The other three looked about them, eyeing the ground for where she might have dropped-

Ruby's eyes widened. The boy! He must have grabbed it by accident when he ran into her. She turned, jumping, feebly trying to see above or around the crowd that now stood between them and the central tower. "Ohh, fffffudge! I'm gonna be in so much trouble if it goes missing." With a sudden urgency, she started running.

"Hey, Ruby! Where are you going?!"

She slowed, pointing to the structure looming over the campus' heights. "That guy must have grabbed it accidentally when we ran into each other. I have to get it back!"

Weiss sighed, palming her forehead with her fingertips. "Well, while you do that, I'm going to go take a shower."

In an instant, the little firecracker was in her face, a threatening finger pointed at the heiress' head. "Weiss Schnee, I swear on all that is holy - if you don't help me get that hat back, I'll stick chewing gum in your hair while you sleep!"

The audible squeak of terror accompanied an involuntary recoil as the prissy one cradled her snowy locks protectively. "Don't even _joke_ about that!"

"Then. Help. Me. Find. That. Hat!" Ruby stomped, poking her finger into Weiss' shoulder with each word.

The heiress relented, following after as Ruby led the troupe in the direction the young man had gone.

* * *

He smiled, allowing his satisfaction to simmer as he tucked the familiar article of clothing into his suit jacket, though he'd much rather wear it than hide it. What luck that he'd found four of the many who'd stopped his blood addled rampage. Though that begged the question; if one of _them_ had his cap, where were the rest of his things? Were they strewn about the campus, taken like trophies by the victors? No, these didn't seem the type to be so barbaric. But then, he had little room to talk. No, he had a feeling they would be elsewhere; the separation of his hat from the rest of his things was likely an outlier.

The halls of the building were spacious; massively so. He hadn't expected such a grand architecture, but he did his best to hide his wonder. He was playing the part of a student after all; no doubt regular students found such a place very common on this campus, if the surrounding campus were anything to go by. He walked on, head angled down slightly, arms clasped behind his back, his eyes shifting observantly as he bypassed numerous students (and who he assumed must have been faculty) along his route. But in this place where he knew nothing, he had no choice but to use every tool he had at his disposal; chief of those being his eyes and ears. His arsenal was gone but his body remained, and so long as he had his hands and mind, he could do anything.

And it seemed the talk of the town was about an upcoming festival. A "vital festival" they called it. Perhaps the times were dark indeed if a festival was considered a societal vitality. Students from all the many academies and schools around the world would be attending to compete in some sort of tournament. He grinned pleasantly; such a crowd would work to his advantage. Speaking of crowds though, it seemed his was thinning out, the many students becoming more and more sparse as he continued on towards what the directions on the walls indicated was the college's headmaster's office. He doubted if he were to surrender himself that they'd treat him with anything but hostility. After all, his actions, whether conscious or not had warranted nothing else. So long as he had his weapons, he might stand a chance should he need to fight it out of this place. Besides, the tools of his trade should not be left in the hands of outsiders.

Soon, the only footsteps he could hear were his own, thudding mutely against the rugged hall's floor, his breathing becoming louder and louder in his ears as the deafening silence downed out all else. The hall was empty now, suspiciously so…

He stopped. Someone... or something was there. Watching him.

"As it happens," a knowing voice echoed politely from behind him. "I make it a personal goal of mine to memorize the faces and names of all my students."

His head turned, eyeing the man from over his shoulder, his gaze hard and calculating. The man's expression was equally as serious, though in his voice and stance he detected some measure of flippancy. More interestingly however were the words that came from his mouth. _His_ students? So then this must be a faculty member, or perhaps even the headmaster himself. He certainly carried himself authoritatively.

"However, your name and face, I do not know." The man stepped forward, a thin cane in his hand. He wore a black overcoat above a green shirt, with bronze buttons adorning his chest and cuffs. The shirt itself was ordinary, save that it had a thick collar that reached near up to the man's chin. On his nose was a pair of shaded glasses no bigger than the man's brown eyes. His silver hair was wild, though not unkempt.

He watched the man carefully. If perhaps there was a measure of doubt in the man's mind, he might have been able to talk his way out of it. Perhaps he could have been a transfer student or the uniform was a hand-me-down. But of course lies inspire more lies, and the more elaborate the web, the harder it is to back up your facts. And regardless, it didn't seem the man's furrowed eyebrows indicated he'd believe anything of the sort. This man already knew otherwise.

With a sigh, he reached into his suit and withdrew his reclaimed cap, flipping it out and setting it on his head, bringing the brim down to cover his eyes. "It seems there's no point in lying," he said softly. " _And_ you knew right where to find me."

With an idle hand, the man motioned toward the ceiling. "Cameras. Once I learned of your absence in the medical wing, I had my entire security staff looking for you. Discreetly of course. No need to cause a panic."

Ah, so that was why the hall he found himself in was empty; the man must have coordinated a clandestine evacuation of the building. Just in case he were some murderous creature of harm and hate. Clever man… And wise.

The sound of tapping shoes sounded from behind him, from the direction he'd been heading prior to his determent. He returned his gaze forward, down the hall. It was a woman. Heir pale golden head of hair was braided on one side, framing her mesmerizing emerald green eyes. She wore a white blouse the ran down into a black skirt with a black cape, the inside of which was a vibrant violet. Her legs were covered by black hosiery and high rimmed, high-heeled shoes.

She stood a dozen feet from him, placing him directly between herself and the silver haired man. Anyone else might have passed her off as a non-factor, but his eyes saw more than most. Her stern complexion wasn't just for show; she was dangerous. As was, for that matter, the silver haired gentleman. And he was pinned dead center between the both of them.

"My name is Ozpin," the man said, finally revealing his name. "I'm headmaster here at Beacon Academy."

Ah, so he _was_ headmaster after all.

"And I believe I have some things that belong to you." The man gave him a stern look, likely gauging his reaction.

"I wondered where my effects were being kept. I retrieved my cap from one of your students. Ruby... Rose I think her name was?" Now it was his turn to examine Ozpin's reaction. To the man's credit, not a muscle on his face twitched out of place.

"I trust none of my students were harmed in the course of your... retrieval." There was that dangerous tone again, hidden behind a facade of pleasant conversation.

He shrugged. "I doubt a tumble to the ground would qualify as harm, considering her capability as a combatant." He continued on before the headmaster could speak up. "Regardless of that, I mean no harm to anyone here," his eyes burned menacingly under the bill of his cap. "That is... so long as no harm is meant in return."

Ozpin raised a skeptical eyebrow, but maintained his composure. "A curious sentiment coming from one who attacked those same students without provocation."

He brought a hand up to his collar and scratched an idle itch. "Ah, I do apologize about that. I wasn't in my right mind, so to speak. Accidents do happen when one becomes delirious."

Ozpin let a small smile grace his lips. "Hm. I imagine traversing the desert would do that to a person."

Yes, let them believe such. It was a decent excuse; they were certainly more likely to believe that than the truth.

Ozpin approached with carefully measured, though also assured steps. "Perhaps we might discuss this... _misunderstanding_ more... in my office."

The young man eyed the woman behind him carefully. She didn't appear all that dangerous. In fact, her colorful apparel made her seem decidedly harmless. But that hardened look of hers gave him second thoughts. He returned his eyes to the man before him. A small smile crept upon the corners of his mouth.

"It would seem the ball is in your court, headmaster."

* * *

The steady hum of the elevator was so dim he hardly even noticed it, though the faint sensation of vertigo remained. Certainly, this was the smoothest elevator ride he'd ever experienced. The two elders stood behind or to the side of him, the woman (who had yet to be introduced) seemed to possess a natural cross-armed stance, and her sharp eyes never left him. Ozpin on the other hand hardly spared him a second glance; the pleasant smile on his face augmented by the rich smelling coffee that he had acquired before their ascent. Either he trusted him more than he ought to, or he was just that confident in his assistant. Either way, he wasn't being dismissed lightly.

The bell dinged softly and the car came to a stop, the two doors in front of them opening to a rather… nostalgic scene.

Evidently the headmaster's office was situated within the inner workings of the academy's clock tower, the green-tinted glass floor, walls, and ceiling revealing the innumerable cogs and gears that ran within it. Center stage was a large white desk, behind which sat a chair, and a large window revealing the expansive grounds of what was apparently the city of Beacon. The two adults entered the room, flanking him as he stepped out with them. But whereas he stopped in the center of the chamber the woman moved aside and allowed Ozpin to walk up to the edge of the desk, where he leaned against it methodically.

"Now then," the man began, "now that we have some privacy…"

Ozpin gestured to him to begin, as if weren't being interrogated. Though realistically, it wasn't far from the case. If security had already been notified, then there were likely to armed guards hidden somewhere in this room, or at the very least within reacting distance. Not to mention the elevator, which was one of a pair that lined one side of the room, was the only way in or out of the atrium.

"Let's start with names." He pointed to himself. "As I already said, my name is Ozpin; senior professor and headmaster here at Beacon Academy." He gestured to the woman beside him with his coffee cup. "And fellow professor and my associate, Glynda Goodwitch."

"Charmed." Though her expression didn't match her words at all, or perhaps that was the point; Sardonicism had never been his strong suit.

He tipped his hat respectfully, though it only seemed to displease the woman more. Maybe she thought it was sarcasm on his part. Maybe it was and he didn't even realize it. Regardless, both had given their names. It was only polite that he reciprocate.

"Very well then," he began as he straightened himself as much as he could, his feet adopting a wide stance and his arms folding behind his back. "My name is Hunter. Beyond that, however, I'm afraid I have as many questions as you do."

His statement was not met with much pleasure. The young man was curious. Strangely compliant, but curious nonetheless. Ozpin took a savory sip from his beverage as he examined the boy. He'd done so from a security screen for the better part of the past few hours. Once he'd learned of his vacation from his hospital bed, he'd had every available surveillance device put to work looking for him. Imagine his surprise when they got a hit in _Beacon Tower_ ; right under his nose. Even if he was dressed as a student, Ozpin was luckily able to spot him from the rest of the crowd. He had a very unique air about him, which had caught Oz's attention. Further scrutiny had revealed his hunch confirmed.

"And I'm afraid I stole these clothes from one of your students."

Ozpin nodded, even though the humored smirk on the young man's face was perhaps a tad misplaced. "Ah, Mr. Lark will be pleased to know we've found them." But it _was_ fairly amusing.

Hunter conceded his fault with a tilt of the head. "I did my best not to injure him, I assure you."

"Disregarding the headache he's now being treated for, I'd say you succeeded in your objective." Ozpin reached behind and set his coffee down, activating the room's holographic projector and bringing up the aforementioned map he and Glynda had been discussing earlier that day.

He noticed Hunter's reflexive jerk as the image appeared, keen eyes discerning the subtleties of his face and posture. The map zoomed in from the global scale down to the continental and then the national. From there, the plot points from where the anomalous stranger's incidents had occurred appeared, lines drawn from one point to another until they ended with a red line, projecting his arrival at Vale. At Beacon. "Now, why don't you tell us why you're here?"

Hunter looked at the three-dimensional image for a long moment before turning to Ozpin. He regarded the man carefully, looking between him and Glynda with an all-too-familiar gaze.

He was sizing them up, noting important features, postures, facts and questions that had been answered or had yet to be asked. In his head was a puzzle, and their actions were the pieces, and he was trying to figure out how they all fit together into a discernible image.

The young man's eyes narrowed, his voice deepening ever so slightly, the tone of the conversation fading a shade darker than before. "As a measure of good faith for your… suspiciously unwarranted courtesy, I deduce this trail…" he gestured to the linked plot points floating in the air, "…is my own."

Ozpin didn't let his expression waver; didn't give anything away. Glynda neither. "There were reports of an armed, dangerous aggressor on the loose near the border of Vacuo," he admitted, tapping his desk as a picture superimposed itself upon the map. It was a blurred, distorted image of a vaguely human shadow swinging at the photographer. "I myself don't know what the person looked like, or where exactly they are. We _think_ they were on their way here to Beacon, but we can't be sure. How fortunate that we found you when we did."

For a moment Glynda gave him a questioning look, as if silently wondering what he was thinking, though she did her best to hide it from their guest.

It seemed the young man was also capable of reading between the lines, his chin pushing out as his head tilted back, even as his eyes focused solely on the headmaster suspiciously. Ozpin gave a simple smirk and reached behind his desk, pulling out a large metal case and setting it thereon. Unclasping the two latches that sealed it shut, he stepped aside and gestured for Hunter to approach.

"I believe these are yours."

The young man took cautious steps forward, his eyes presently coming to view his missing belongings. With a steady hand, he reached in and withdrew _it._

It was a weapon, or at least Ozpin assumed so. It was so simple in design, and yet so formidable to behold. Colored in rustic, almost gleaming red, the "blade" (if it could be called that) was, simply put, a hunk of iron. Having held it himself only for a short few seconds, he knew there was a trigger on the long handle that allowed the blade to swing out, switching from serrated teeth to uncannily sharp edge.

Ozpin was also no stranger to observation, as if that even need be said; he wasn't a headmaster of a school for nothing. It was one of the few things he allowed himself to feel pride for; the school he ran and the students who grew up in its halls. And it was with that proud talent that he beheld the ease and comfort with which Hunter gripped the seemingly cobbled weapon. Despite his young age, it appeared he was intimately familiar with such a deadly device. Of course, that all but confirmed the nature of the young man as a hunter, as coincidental as that seemed given the boy's name. Not that Oz needed much convincing; he trusted his students unwaveringly, and their account of the young man's skill at killing Grimm (to say nothing of when his attention inexplicably turned toward them) was, at the very least, nothing short of impressive.

Which brought him to the million dollar question. "Why did you attack my students?"

Hunter, who appeared to have fallen into some form of trance as he examined his weapon, was jarred from his inner thoughts, bringing his gaze back to Ozpin, a humorous twinkle in his eyes. He let his blade-wielding arm fall to his side as he turned to regard the headmaster.

"You must not be very familiar with interrogatory techniques," he said his voice shacking between rapid exhalations; a sign of suppressed laughter. "You're supposed to question a person _before_ you give them their weapon," he said with a nudge of his right hand that held said armament.

Ozpin didn't miss a beat, such was his intention after all. "Consider it a token of my trust. I've returned what belongs to you, so I'd say I'm owed a measure of reciprocity." What Ozpin left unsaid was that it was a token of his trust _that he wouldn't start swinging the thing around the moment he got it in an attempt to escape._ Not that the young man had a chance. Even if by some miracle he got by Glynda, it would take a second miracle to get past _him._ And in Ozpin's experience, miracles rarely happen twice.

Hunter regarded the man silently for several moment before a humorous breath escaped his mouth, a upturned corner of his mouth emphasizing his amusement at the situation. Ozpin had to admit, for a young man, his nerves were exceptionally steely, even in such a situation.

"Indeed, you have done right by me. Ministered medical aid to me, an enemy by all appearances, returned that which is rightfully mine, and in such a manner befitting a man of your position. Either your courteousness knows no limits, your naiveté extends beyond the bounds of human comprehension, or your confidence in others has so very seldom let you down. Either way, you have my respect, headmaster Ozpin."

With a brow-raising gesture, the young man swung his right arm to his left side, half-bowing at the waist. "The truth is owed to thee." With a flick, his arm came back to his right side, the large hunk of metal swinging out with a resounding, rustic _clunk!_ If Ozpin was intimidated by the move, he didn't let it show, though Glynda was noticeably on edge. But the boy simply let the head of the weapon rest on the floor, his wrists crossing over the pommel of the grip.

"I'll speak plainly. I know not by what circumstances I came to be in the grips of madness, but in such a state I could not differentiate friend or foe. It's… an inevitably common occurrence where I'm from. Which, I might add," his tone lightened as he gestured out the window, "Your students did an excellent job subduing me, given the danger blood-addled hunters pose to those around them."

Ozpin's curiosity piqued suddenly. "Blood-addled?" he parroted, a growing concern anchoring in the pit of his stomach.

Hunter's eyes narrowed in seriousness. "Yes. Without boring you with the details, I possess a unique blood that, if I am not careful, can cause a bestial hunger for violence and death to blind me. Though I have complete control over myself, my mind identifies friend as foe, and foe as fodder." He let a sigh exit his lips, his eyes closed in remembrance. "Rest assured I've taken precautions against future episodes. Mine is not a unique case. As I said this is a common occurrence where I'm from."

Whether it was the truth or not, every answer the boy offered begged two more, a list formulating in Ozpin's mind of various points to query in due time. But the question that most tugged at his mind most conveniently followed the flow of conversation. "And where is that, exactly?"

Hunter's eyes remained closed, though he took a deep breath. Not of nervousness as Ozpin might have expected, but of strain; like the topic were difficult to address. He wondered if some great tragedy regarding his home weighed on the young man's mind.

"A place far from here… and yet so very close." The cryptic answer was followed by Hunter's eyes snapping open. "Headmaster Ozpin…"

"Ozpin is fine," the man assured.

"Ozpin..." Hunter corrected. "Do you believe in fairy tales?"

It was at that moment that Ozpin couldn't stop a smile from snaking across his face. "Hah, if you only knew."

"Ah, then this should be simple." Hunter tipped his hat respectfully. "I apologize for any ambiguity I have expressed. I promised you the truth, but I must temper it with your capacity."

"Capacity for what?"

Hunter almost jumped with a start. It was the first time since her introduction that she'd spoken. Suspicion dripped from her voice, as if the skepticism on her face wasn't evidence enough of her caginess. Hunter quickly recovered himself, settling into a relaxing forward lean on his weapon.

" _Understanding,_ Miss Goodwitch."

She opened her mouth to speak, likely to beg the man's proverbial pardon, but Ozpin spoke first. "I think you'll find I understand a _great deal_."

The air turned heavy. The seriousness… the surety which Ozpin looked into Hunter's eyes bespoke volumes of his capability. It wasn't with hubris that Ozpin declared himself; it was the truth.

Hunter seemed surprised by his affirmation, or perhaps it was with the lack of any self-doubt that roused his wonder. But Hunter's expression softened for a moment before hardening. "I've long believed in taking people at their word, often despite my better judgment…" He let his unspoken skepticism hang in the air, a pointed glare being sent towards the headmaster.

But Ozpin did not waver. "Let's prove your better judgment wrong then."

This time Hunter's striking orange orbs burrowed into the silver haired man. For a moment, Ozpin swore he saw a speck of light in his eyes. Not a twinkle of light reflected from elsewhere, but an internal light, an inner glow from deep inside. He didn't know how to describe it. For a long moment Hunter did not speak. When he did, it was with an irrefutable gravity that belied his honesty.

"I'm not from this world."

He'd half expected roaring laughter or disbelief so strong they couldn't even shake their heads at him. What he saw surprised him; not an inordinately difficult task, but not explicitly easy either.

They were listening.

 _Intently._

Their skeptic brows raised, to be sure; so would his be, were he in their position. But their disbelief was held in check as they waited. When he'd given them enough time to interrupt him, and subsequently found they were content to allow him to continue, he obliged.

"I suppose, more specifically, I'm from a different plane; a plane parallel to yours, so to speak. Though not wholly identical."

Still they did not stop him. Either they truly believe his words or were at least willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, or they were just gathering evidence with which to lock him up in an asylum. Well, if push came to shove…

But that was a concern for later. He continued. "I grew up in a faraway land, sickly and desperate. To me, and those like me, the city of Yharnam was a paradise. A place where special blood was consumed to heal wounds, cure diseases, and strengthen the body. It's no small wonder then that I made my way to that city as soon as was able."

Ozpin leaned against his desk, mirroring Hunter's pose with his cane, inclining his head as he listened.

"But Yharnam's secret blood was a poison. Certainly, it did all we'd heard and more. But that 'more' was a terrible, terrible curse."

He eyed the two elders. He suspected this, at least, they would believe.

"Lycanthropy."

Their eyes indeed registered familiarity. Hunter knew the world was plagued by blackened beasts that hunted humanity for no other reason than that they could. He had no doubt there were large canine-like beasts as well. Scorpions, snakes, great avian monsters of all sorts of unnatural sizes… Dogs surely weren't out of the equation. And by the expressions on their faces, he assumed correctly.

"You mean werewolves? They were turned into werewolves?" Gynda asked.

"The Healing Church hoarded the stuff, but also purified it and made it stronger… More potent. But when the people started turning, the Church claimed the blood was the only cure. Poor fools they were."

He shook his head tragically. "In the early days, hunters were conscripted from the local populous to target the beasts. But as the plague spread wider, and the beasts got bigger, the hunters grew fewer. Pretty soon, workshops cropped up all over the place, each one dedicated to creating weapons dedicated to killing beasts. The remaining hunters who were too brave or stupid to give up the Hunt flocked to these guilds. Even the Church had its own workshop for its duplicitous agents."

"Wait," Glynda held up a hand to stop him, her eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You mean to say you hunted your fellow people?"

Hunter regarded her for a moment before shrugging. "There is no cure for beast-hood. Once you start to turn, the blood only prolongs the process, even as it makes it worse. But how do you convince an entire city to stop consuming a miracle brew that heals you, makes your stronger? The Church would never cut off its own consumer base, lest they lose control of the city itself."

"But they were still human. Even if they were changed."

He turned to Glynda sympathetically. "I once met a hunter who thought the same as you. He guarded Old Yharnam, a burned and abandoned district still yet overrun by beasts, from eager hunters like me who wandered too far below the city. He was convinced they were still people, that we hunters had a duty to protect them."

Glynda frowned and re-crossed her arms, another point in need of clarity on her lips. "What exactly did you mean by 'brew.'"

Hunter opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself, seeming to mull the answer over in his head for several seconds before he found his voice. "Blood was more plentiful than alcohol. And more intoxicating."

The look on Glynda's face showed just what she thought of that. The disgust roiled off of her in waves.

Ozpin on the other hand, even if he didn't believe his story, seemed to focus on the facts, unfazed by the details of that broken city. "This blood that the church cultivated… Where did they get it?"

The scowl on Hunter's face warped into a sneer. "The truth was that the Church didn't make the blood at all. They harvested it." He eyed the two individuals carefully, gauging their reactions and responses. "And that's where my tale becomes a mite more… fantastical."

Ozpin merely nodded, chin resting on his folded hands over his cane. "Please," he said with a look of intense interest flicking through his eyes, "go on."

* * *

Ruby must have been cursed. _Surely_. They'd traced the boy back to Beacon Tower, after which they lost sight of him. Even when they split up to cover more ground, when they reconvened an hour later, they were no closer to finding him than they were before.

"Oh man, Ozpin's gonna kill me…" Ruby freaked as anxious clouds of steam comically vented from her ears.

"Don't worry Rubes," Yang assured with a smile as she slung an arm around her little sister's shoulders. "He'll have to go the _me_ first. Then he'll kill you."

"Rrrr! That doesn't help Yang!" Ruby cried as into her sister's ear, her countenance going all gloomy. "I'm just a slab of meat, aren't I? A dead girl walking…"

"Well… Maybe he won't notice it's missing," Weiss offered.

"Oh please, Ozpin knows everything!" Ruby countered, her gloominess turning to frustration on a dime, as it so often did.

A familiar chime echoed from her scroll and she retrieved it from her pocket,blanching as she looked at the ID plastered on the calling screen.

"Ah man… Here it comes…" Her teammates gave apprehensive looks to each other as they saw the name. Taking a deep breath, Ruby bit the bullet. "OK. Here we go." She tapped receive.

"Heeeey professor! Wazzap? Need something?"

The disembodied voice that came from the device was undoubtedly the headmaster's. _"Yes, would you mind coming to my office? I have something I wish to discuss with you."_

"Well… It was nice knowing ya Ruby," Yang offered with a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

Blake saluted the red-clad girl, the classical "fallen heroes" theme playing from her own scroll. "It was a pleasure knowing you, team leader."

"Wow, he really _does_ know everything," Weiss marveled in surprise.

 _"That includes your three as well,"_ Ozpin's voice continued, sending a startling chill through the rest of team RWBY. _"At your earliest convenience of course."_ Of course, the tone in his voice made it clear he expected that their "earliest convenience" was now. There was a collective sigh that resounded through the team as their shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Well... we should probably get this over with..." Ruby muttered, mostly to herself as she shuffled towards the headmaster's office at a sloth's pace; anything to stave off the inevitable punishment she was bound to receive. When at the end of their journey, and the elevator leading up to Ozpin's office came to a full stop, they stepped out to a shock. Ozpin sat behind his desk, a long series of notes strewn about it, most scribbled in his own handwriting. Professor Goodwitch stood slightly off to the side, searching through an unmarked file box. But what brought them to a complete halt was the third individual in the room.

The deranged assailant they'd put into the infirmary not a few hours earlier stood there, his back towards therm, his attention on the faculty before him. He leaned on the very same weapon that had so nearly taken their heads and limbs off, casually. All eyes rose and turned to the quartet of huntresses.

"Ah, Miss Rose... and company," Ozpin addressed as he rose to his feet. "Good of you to come so promptly." Ruby gulped as she beheld a strange, yet familiar twinkle in the man's eyes. "May I introduce Hunter? He's going to be a new student here at Beacon Academy starting tomorrow."

All four girls' mouths hung ajar, stuttering sounds of disbelief barely heard from their silent protests. The young man in question turned to address them, a... somehow _cheeky_ smile gracing his face.

"Hello again, Miss Rose."

* * *

 **A/N: And there you have it! Chapter one done! Let me know what you think about it! This is mostly me just testing the waters and seeing how well I do with accurately capturing the characteristics of our favorite characters. And here's a little spoiler for you all; in most RWBY/Bloodborne stories, the Good Hunter is always alone.** **This will not be so here.**

 **For as _He_ said when he raised man from the dust, "It is not good for Man to be alone." **

**I feel the same, and so Hunter will be getting some company... Soon™. Until then, I've been the Black Lis- Wait, ha ha! Too used to YouTube. I've been _Konerok Hadorak._ I'll see you next time!**


	2. Chapter 2: Acclimation

**A/N: Well, well, well! A second chapter? And it _didn't_ take me multiple years to make it? By golly! I'm improving!**

 **First of all, thanks for all those who took the t ime to review the pilot chapter for this story; it really helped motivate me to work on the next one... that being _this_ one. By name, they are, ** ultima-owner, Muffintops257, garoorar, Ace1stonewall, Fuzzyjacket, DD soul, simple405, YharnamHunter2092, N3Ber1us, Guest, A Whimsical Seishin, The Baz, zombiemaker22, dgMax, Smilexcynical, DragonLark, DecrepitSoul, Warden of Lore, ishygddt456, Anonymity, bluejayson1998, Dragon God Draygan, jordanlink7856, Rook115, Reginleif2004, Matemeo3, The Twin Wraiths, Smiling Seshat, Aaaaythatzgud, DarxMercenary, Guestguy, **and** Grimmjow.

 **Your support is what keeps me going. Thank you everyone! And in regards to some of your reviews, I'd like to just take a few short seconds to address some of them.**

 **Pairings are not a focus of this story: There will be no shoehorning folks together because we (I) can, there will be no gratuitous smut or whatever passes for fanfiction romance these days. I can at least boast that I'm above _that_ kind of quality author. **

**Some of you asked about our good friend, the Doll. I'm sorry to say she will not be joining us for quite some time. Eventually, yes, msot certainly. but not _yet. But fear not (the dark) my friends!_** **Be sure to read** **'till the end of this chapter to learn more!**

 **Welp, not enough time has gone by for me to go on a tirade about how much my life has changed since last I updated so... yeah.**

 **Get readin'! I mean... enjoy. :)**

* * *

 **Chapter Two,  
Acclimation  
**

For all the times Ruby had been stunned into silence, this one was definitely in the top seven. Yeah. This even topped the time Yang accidentally dropped her towel, fresh out of the shower, in front of her boyfriend-at-the-time. Completely accidental, honest, but still… shocking.

Even dressed in a Beacon student uniform, the silhouette of the boy was unmistakably reflective of the masked man who'd all but ambushed them not even a full twenty-four hours earlier. He stood straight, not an injury to be seen marring his face or forehead, leaning with both hands folded over his cleaver-esque weapon balanced in front of him. The grimy nature of the thing clashed with the crisp cleanliness of his suit and tie, though it matched the suspiciously familiar cap that rested on his head.

Speaking of which…

"AHH! You're the boy from earlier! I mean, the guy who attacked us earlier! Or, the guy who saved us earlier…?" Her shock and indignation devolved into internal contemplation as her outstretched, accusatory finger retreated to her chin unsurely. Thankfully what her spaghetti brain failed to make in regards to a point, Weiss was dutifully capable of putting into words.

"You're the guy who almost _killed_ us!"

Even in the presence of Ozpin and Goodwitch, Yang sank into a defensive posture as Blake reached for the phantom weight where Gambol Shroud would normally be.

For a brief instant, Ruby's bewilderment kept her from reacting, her eyes flashing between the two parties faster than either could move. There was a twinkle in the stranger's shadowed orbs. His grip on his own weapon tightened, the shifting of the cloth above his biceps hinting at the inevitable (re)action he was about to make.

"That will be _enough._ "

The clear commanding voice of the revered headmaster stopped them all in their tracks, drawing all five pair of eyes to him. After a short period of silence wherein the headmaster made sure all attention was upon him, he resumed. "I understand any and _all_ reservations you might have concerning Hunter, considering your previous… encounter." He paused, watching as the two girls lowered their offensive postures and returned to eased positions. "However, I would think Hunter's brief mania under the burning Vacuo sun could be easily overlooked, considering he will be rooming with you four for the foreseeable future."

To say all four of said girls' jaws hung open in shock and indignation would be an understatement were it not underpinned by the expression that suddenly usurped the boy's cool, collected features. His eyes nearly exploded from their sockets as he whirled to regard the headmaster.

"…Surely you jest…"

Ozpin gave a small grin and took a methodical sip from his coffee. "I do not. And don't call me Shirley."

The glower the young man gave the headmaster would have put any other student in danger of suspension, but it was mirrored in almost exact intensity by the four Huntresses-to-be behind him. Ozpin spoke before any of them could, more to respond to Hunter's yet-unasked questions.

"Here in Beacon we take a more… liberal approach to our room and board," he said with a punctuating sip of his beverage. "After all, there's more to being a team than just fighting and eating together. Lives lived together are lives tied together by a bond stronger than mere friendship." Another nip. "Kinship. Not to mention it establishes a standard level of maturity necessary for hunters and huntresses in training. "

The young man seemed to regard the older man carefully before subsequently relenting. He gave a sizable sigh as he shrugged his shoulders. "I find no fault in that logic. I'll abide. Though I can foresee many instances where that policy might be… problematic."

Yang glared holes into him, finding his surrender a bit _too_ easy for her to take on good faith. But then again, he was a new student; the look he gave just a moment ago alone would have put anyone else in questionable standing with the headmaster. Maybe he just didn't want to push his luck…?

She and Blake shared a short look before turning to Ruby and Weiss. The four of them, sisters in all but blood (well, blood too, technically), looked for any serious sign of objections. Many concerns were raised in their silent, telepathic communication, but none so strong as to refute Ozpin's declaration.

When no more thoughts could be communicated (as well as they can be through body language and subtle facial tics), their gazes returned to the young man before them, their eyes setting the young man on edge as they bored into him.

Yang gave a resenting huff of unwilling relent. "…Wha'd'ya say team? Yay or nay?"

Whether or not they in fact had a choice in the matter was actually pretty questionable. If all of them adamantly refused, it was highly unlikely that Ozpin would actually double down, not in this situation. But on the other hand, while none of them were exceptionally pleased with the idea, he was a new student. They were the first four students he had met from Beacon, sans teams JNPR and CRDL. Could they really be so cold to someone they hardly knew? For that matter, being someone they hardly knew, was it appropriate for them to introduce him to their private lives when they knew nothing about him?

Ruby looked him up and down. Not in any scrutinizing way, at least she hoped that wasn't what it looked like. Honestly he seemed almost as put out as they were; they were all in the same boat… why not float together?

She turned her eyes from the boy to Ozpin. "So… you're saying he was hallucinating from the heat?" she asked almost rhetorically. It certainly explained why he'd been so nut-job wacko when they'd first met. And in all fairness, he hadn't just gone gung-ho for them; he'd also killed several Grimm. Maybe he just couldn't tell the difference…? She'd heard stories of travelers in the desert experiencing mirages that caused them to act irrationally. In fact, to one suffering from a hallucination, the only one who seems sane during the ordeal is the hallucinator themselves. Everyone _else_ appears crazy.

In that regard, Ruby could sympathize with the young man. Here he was just trying to get to Beacon, and in a manic episode beyond his ability to control unknowingly attacks his soon-to-be fellow students. And in the process of doing so, put himself in a bad light… But again, it was all beyond his ability to control.

 _If_ that was indeed the case…

With a suddenness that caught even her own team off-guard, she stepped up to the young man, noting how much taller than her she was. She squinted at him, looking into his eyes for that same bleary depth that she'd seen before, stepping up onto her tippy-toes to do so.

He blinked down at her confusedly, glancing askance to Ozpin and Goodwitch for clarification. Neither indicated anything, causing him to return his eyes to the short little black and red haired girl mere inches from his face.

Presently Ruby fell back onto her heels, a satisfied smile gracing her pale face. Whatever she'd seen in his eyes when they'd clashed before was no longer there. She may not have been the most perceptive of individuals (which was an understatement), but at least when she locked eyes with him, she saw a lot of things. Surprise, discomfort, uncertainty. What she didn't see was danger, malice or homicidal schizophrenia. Plus-one in her book.

She turned back to her team with a confidence they likely wished they had as well. "I say…" she let the pause stand for a second before leaping into the air with a raised fist. "…YAY!"

The three remaining girls glanced at each other, shrugging. Any argument they might have had died with their leader's vote. Not that they had much of an argument in the first place considering the special circumstances of the situation.

"I… _suppose_ I'm OK with this…" Blake said tentatively, giving the boy a suspicious (or perhaps _warning_ ) look.

They looked at Yang, noticing the way she nearly smirked as she… was she mentally undressing him? "Huh? What? Oh. Meh, don't care," she said while looking away, folding her hands behind her head and whistling an indistinct tune and feigning a noncommittal attitude.

Weiss gave her blonde teammate a skeptical look before shaking her head and marching up to the boy. This was the first time she'd been so close to him since the battle. He certainly was a head taller than her, at least six-foot in estimation. With as much command as she could muster, she looked into his eyes and jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "You sleep on the floor. Got it?"

The boy took a moment to realize that the girl's words were, in fact, an approval… of sorts.

He let a small smile crack his face. "Agreed. I am intruding after all."

The girl's hard expression remained, though she didn't speak another word. Perhaps she'd been expecting to rebuke an incoming argument. As it was, an agreement had been made. She pulled back and huffed indignantly.

The boy let out a huff of his own and he cast his gaze back towards the headmaster. When the man had proposed this joint venture of theirs, he had accepted that certain decisions would be made independent of his opinion. But the sudden brazenness with which the man had suddenly taken to making said decisions had him seriously considering the man's sanity.

The black and red haired girl stepped forward, extending a hand. "I'm Ruby Rose… Er, I guess you kinda already knew that." She smiled sheepishly, recalling how he'd all but tackled her in the process of his sleight of hand theft/reclamation of his cap.

"Hunter," he announced, meeting her hand with his; in their stupor, they'd probably forgotten his name from Ozpin's initial introduction. "A pleasure to _properly_ make your acquaintance Miss Rose."

The girl gave a snorting sort of snigger and pushed him away with no real force. " _Khk!_ Okay, _Mr. Hunter,_ " she responded with an amused, mimicking tone. But where someone else might have been offended, the boy, being the naturally pleasantly natured person he was, knew what she was alluding to.

He gave a small shrug, smiling. "Too formal?"

Ruby rolled her eyes with a grin. "Umm, a bit. Yeah."

Hunter's eyes fell on the remaining unnamed ladies in the room expectantly, which cued their introductions as well, albeit with some measure of hesitation. Or was it uncertainty?

The blonde… or rather, the young woman with the golden mane stepped forward, wiping her hand over a sleeve before extending it to him, which he reciprocated.

"Yang Xiao Long."

Hunter almost winced at the force of her grip. "Let me guess… Arm wrestler?"

She grinned proudly. "All-time champ!"

He gave a contemplative hum of acknowledgement before he eyed the remaining two. The black haired one didn't come forward as the other two had, instead standing at ease, but a suspiciously measured distance from him. "Blake Belladonna."

He gave a nod. He couldn't expect them to be chummy with him right off the bat even in the best of circumstances (which these were decidedly not). The white one uncrossed her arms and gave a mock curtsey, either in mockery of his more apt vernacular or in genuine propriety; he wasn't certain one way or another. "Weiss Schnee. Pleasure to meet you."

He countered with a bow of his own, bringing his right hand over his chest as he arched down. "The pleasure is mine." No sooner had he risen from that bow did Ozpin bring their attention back to him.

"Excellent. Now that introductions are through, I ask that all of you return to your quarters at your earliest convenience." He eyed the only other male in the room as the girls turned to leave. "Hunter, we will continue our earlier discussion at length soon. In the meantime, acquaint yourself with the school grounds and with the classes you will be attending. Additionally, should you require any further necessities, you may requisition them from me or Miss Goodwitch. Understood?"

Hunter nodded. He wasn't much of an actor, but this was a role he could play all too well. Rather, it was a role he had unwittingly played once before… in a way. Sinking back into it would take very little time at all he wagered.

"Of course, headmaster Ozpin."

The man placed out a placating hand to stop him. "Please, just 'professor' is enough."

Hunter nodded. "Professor Ozpin then," he bowed his head respectfully and turned away, following the girls into the elevator.

* * *

Ozpin watched as the doors slid shut and the inaudible decent of the lift began. He leaned back slightly, leaning against his desk comfortably.

"Will his cover hold?"Glynda asked with no small amount of worry in her voice.

"I don't doubt him. If what he's told us holds true, then I'm sure he is _more_ than capable of managing a few small white lies."

"Well you were certainly quick to trust him."

Ozpin eyed the woman carefully, the distrust and disapproval clear in not only her words and tone, but also her body language; her concerned expression. She was _truly_ worried. And make no mistake, so was he. But…

"Actually, I think it's the other way around. He's surrounded by skilled hunters and huntresses of all shapes, sizes, capabilities and creeds. He is willingly putting himself in the lion's den." He turned around to his desk, bringing up the live security feeds of the five students in the elevator. It was obvious by their body language that slim-to-none of team RWBY were willing to so easily accept Hunter as part of their little cadre. "Surely… he was quicker to trust _us_ than we him."

Goodwitch frowned down at the paperwork in her hands, upon it the lies and half-truths they'd concocted in unison over the past few hours. She still had trouble wrapping her mind around Hunter's tale. All the more so when she detected moments of… minute deception during certain points of his account. He wasn't telling them the whole story, of that she was certain. Yet he also spoke of things no ordinary person could have known about, and spouted out with such vitriol and genuine disdain for the current worldly disposition that she found herself believing every word he said. By his own admission, he was a poor actor, but Glynda found herself wondering just how honest that confession actually was. In such regards, Ozpin was always the keener of their circle in detecting flaws in a false story or fabrications in a true one, yet it seemed he had bought the young man's account.

She turned her eyes to her dear friend skeptically. "Are you sure these documents will hold water when they come under scrutiny?"

Ozpin noticed how she didn't say _if. When_ was certainly the more appropriate conjunction. He let out a breath, as it undoubtedly seemed he was due a sigh of his own after this sudden debacle. "I'll make sure it does. But that can wait for a while at least. Let Hunter get settled in to life here at Beacon. We can continue once he's gotten the lay of the land."

Glynda gave a slow nod and began the tedious process of… well… _processing_ the boy's new identity into the digital system. Getting the boy a scroll was top priority for communication's sake; the sooner he had a school ID, the sooner he could get into the normal schoolboy's life. And the sooner he did _that_ … She looked askance at the elder man beside her as he gazed contentedly at the holographic screen displaying the five children, a smile of satisfaction conspicuously present on his face. It was obvious what Ozpin was doing, but it was equally obvious how _dangerous_ what he was doing _actually was._

"I hope you know what you're doing, Oz."

His eyes met hers for a brief moment before they closed in a helpless smile.

"I hope so too, Glynda. I hope so too."

* * *

"Sooo… Hunter. Where're ya from?"

The relative silence that had impregnated the quintet since the elevator was broken by the gold-headed lioness. Yang, he committed to memory. He let pretention slide as he recalled the details he, Goodwitch and Ozpin had worked out. He, honest to God, was an _abhorrent_ actor. Lying on the other hand… He was a rather proficient practitioner.

"A small town in the boondocks of Vacuo. It's barely a town at all really." He imagined a sad shanty of half-dilapidated buildings arrayed in some semblance of order in the dusty Vacuan sun.

"Huh, sounds harsh," Yang conceded, resting her hands behind her head. "So what brings you to Beacon. I mean, besides going desert-crazy and winding up in Vale without realizing it."

Hunter had to let out a laugh at that. "Kind of answers itself doesn't it?" he questioned humorously.

"But why not just go back to Vacuo and attend Shade Academy? Why settle for Beacon?" Ruby asked, making a mental clarification that she wasn't trying to belittle Beacon in any way. But Beacon _was_ way out of a person's way; especially if that person lived in Vacuo.

"Yeah, I'm sure Ozpin would have arranged to return you once you recovered." This time the words came from Blake. Arguably the quietest of the four, she was sharp and aware, though contentedly silent. Hunter wagered she had espionage flowing in her blood.

Hunter grimaced as he imagined what kind of hell Vacuo must be. An entire nation of lawlessness and disorder; where the strong live by "might makes right" and the weak suffer beneath that iron-clad principle. He didn't have to imagine too hard, considering his true history…

"I… I just had to get out of there." His eyes hardened as he remembered the horrible city of filth that he grew up in, sick and afflicted beyond recovery, every day subjected to the noxious fumes of industry and the pox-ridden streets of poverty and hopelessness. The Devil had only to pull aside the canvas of human innovation to reveal his peerless handiwork; Hell was a place on earth, and for a long time, that town was it, and it was no fabrication.

"I'd heard promising stories of Vale, and by extension, Beacon. I thought that if I could somehow cross the _Aureum_ then I'd be worthy of attending Beacon academy… That's what I thought in my own mind anyway." He sighed as he remembered the desperation with which he'd sought out the miracle cure for his ailments, and the pilgrimage it had turned into, along with the resulting… contract.

"I'd lived in the environment for long enough, and I was familiar with how to travel the deserts. Figured I could make it." He glanced at the four girls apologetically. "To my credit, I _did_ make it. Unfortunately, I didn't take delirium into account, and you and your friends suffered for my rashness."

Ruby waved off his concerns with an over-exaggerated motion. "Psssh! No biggy! Actually we were kind of in a bind before you got there. Because you showed up, we were able to hold off the Grimm long enough for our friends to find us."

Hunter chuckled bashfully as he scratched the side of his chin. He was well aware that although Ruby might feel fair is fair, the others might very well not. Plus, he had the distinct impression she was trying to downplay the terror she and her friends must have felt facing him in battle. Blood-crazed hunters were some of the most petrifying horrors that existed on the material plane. To their credit, they handled him well, but he doubted they would have been so well off had he been more… well…

Shall we say… _open-minded._

"I appreciate the reassurance Miss Rose. Really. But I feel that I owe you an apology anyway. All of you actually." He stepped to the front of the group and slowed to face the four girls, bringing them to a stop. "For my actions, conscious or otherwise, that led to any distress or injury, I'm sincerely sorry."

He gave a deep bow, reminiscent to the same one he'd given Weiss just a few short minutes prior. Only this time, he held it for much longer. The four girls looked at each other, unsure how to react to the boy's sudden act of contrition. After a several shrugs, shared looks and smiles, Yang prompted him to rise. "Hey, all's forgiven. No harm, no foul, right?"

He rose back up, relief evident on his face. "Thank you. And thank you for bringing me back to my senses."

"Technically, that was _Nora_ who knocked the bejesus back into you."

Hunter raised a hand to massage his scalp, rubbing away the phantom pain that suddenly resurfaced. "I'll admit, it was an excellent hit. I hope I can meet this Nora in person."

"We'll probably see them in class tomorrow," Ruby disclosed. "I don't suppose professor Ozpin already gave you a schedule?"

Hunter gave his head a shake in the negative. "The headmaster apparently wants me to shadow you for a few classes in the morning and then meet with him later to finalize a schedule. I hope that doesn't inconvenience any of you," he worriedly said with a look between the four of them.

"Nah, not really," Yang assured with a wave of her hand. "Oh! Speaking of inconveniences, I'm starving!"

A collective growl from all five stomachs roared in agreement at the allusion to food. Ruby pumped a fist into the air with a battle cry. "Alright! It's decided; tonight we feast like kings!"

"I say we let the newbie decide where we eat," Yang suggested with a friendly smile his way. "Y'know, since it's your first day here. Wha'd'ya want?"

Hunter blanked, not having expected to be put on the spot like this. He brought a hand up to rub his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm…" He considered what it was he was actually in the mood for. No doubt in this new place culinary practices and dietary limitations based on regional restrictions were vastly different from what he was used to. To be honest, it had been far longer than he'd realized since he'd had a meal that wasn't also… well… prey.

 _Oh!_

He snapped his fingers.

"Do you have any calamari?"

* * *

Hunter suppressed a gaseous belch as he rubbed his belly, full to the brim with wonderfully deep-fried squid tentacles. In the end, the girls had found an appropriate restaurant, ordered their food and chowed down. The black haired one, Blake, particularly enjoyed their many helpings. Although Hunter was the self-sufficient, independent type, he had to admit… As much as he trusted his own cooking talents, it was nice to let someone else with more culinary experience slave over the meal. All he had to do was order and wait.

During said wait, the four girls did their best to lay out the campus of Beacon in as basic a form as possible considering that, minus their scrolls, there was no real map of Beacon outside of the odd kiosk here and there. Honestly, it was an aspect the school needed to improve on. Unfortunately, (improbably in fact) not _one_ of them was any good at directions, with perhaps the exception of Blake. Too bad for him, she was the quiet one. But the discussion ever so marginally moved away from school and towards Hunter.

"Soooo…" Ruby began not so subtly. "What your weapon's name?"

At this, not only did Hunter raise a brow of confusion, but Yang and Blake shook their heads while Weiss smacked her palm against her forehead.

"What?!" Ruby asked in indignation as she watched her friends' reactions. "I'm just curious!"

Yang smiled apologetically aside to Hunter from across the table. "Forgive my sister, she has… issues."

Ruby glared at her half sibling with an accusing pair of eyes. "You know as well as I do that a weapon speaks a lot about a person. Meeting new weapons is like meeting new people."

Whatever exasperated response the other three might have given was silenced by Hunter's raised hand. "I don't mind. I take it naming your weapon is a commonality in these parts?"

He wasn't all that aware of social norms, which were decidedly different from his customary home. He didn't want to assume too much, but at the same time, he _was_ "from the boonies…" He had a lot to learn. Of that he had little doubt.

"Pretty much," Yang confirmed. "For instance, mine's Ember Celica," she elaborated, pantomiming a pair of bracers… or perhaps gauntlets. If he could recall the previous encounter they'd had together with any clarity he supposed he could remember, however faintly, something similar in the blonde's modus operandi. "…Though I think it's a little childish of us to name them honestly," she admitted with a sheepish smile.

Hunter returned the expression with a shake of his head. "I'm of two minds on the matter. On the one hand I agree with you; a weapon needs no name to do its designed duty. On the other hand, if you aspire to become the greatest of hunters, like the legends of old, you must possess a weapon equal in notoriety to yourself. The children must speak of both you and your signature tool in a single breath."

For the most part, team RWBY was taken aback. He spoke with such earnestness and confidence, they almost believed he knew what he was talking about. One of them even _did._

Ruby stared at him with stars in her eyes. _Actual stars_ mind you. "Whooooa… That's… so… _COOL!_ " She leapt from the table with a fist pumped high into the air. The other three girls palmed their faces, shoulders sloughing down. "Please don't encourage her…" Weiss murmured under her breath to him from across the table.

"Too late! I'm already encouraged!" Ruby dauntlessly declared as she dropped back into her seat. "Finally someone who gets it! I mean, our friends do too, but no one on _my_ team does… So what's yours called?"

Hunter blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're _weapon!_ I mean after everything you just said you _obviously_ named your weapon, right?" The giddy little girl looked at him expectantly, her bright expression sending little pings of regret through his chest on the account that he must disappoint her.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I've never given it much thought. Truth be told, I never really got so attached to my weapons as to name them."

"Wait… weapons? As in plural?"

This time it was the dark haired Blake who spoke up, her interest piqued. It wasn't uncommon for a hunter or huntress to have a variable weapon capable of changing forms, but it was very _un_ common to possess more than one. After all, the amount of training required to master even a single weapon was tremendous; she couldn't imagine learning more than that. Even though Gambol Shroud was, essentially, three weapons in one, she'd designed and built it herself according to her own specifications. Its many modes of use wove seamlessly into her combat style, so even though it was a katana, a kusarigama sub-machine gun, and a cleaver, it never really felt like she was learning three weapons. Just three different ways to use one.

Hunter blinked again caught off guard by their surprise. "W-Well you see, I never really put much stock into a single, lasting weapon," he lied, doing his best not to bellyache at his own hypocrisy. For the sake of his story, he would have to deceive them on this point. "I never had the resources to make a weapon that would survive more than a few fights. If it broke, I just made a new one."

"So, what kind is that one?" Ruby asked, cocking her head to the side of their booth here Hunter's weapon lay resting against his seat. Ordinarily, students kept their weapons stored in specially designated lockers. In emergencies, they could be triggered to be flown directly to them from those same lockers, and at any given time were to remain there unless checked out for maintenance or other necessities. It wouldn't do to have deadly weapons just lying about within the dorms after all. But, due to certain circumstances, Hunter had not yet been assigned a locker. Thus he was carrying the weapon on his back, the hunk of metal wrapped in a thick, dirty white cloth.

Hunter turned to eye the thing, an honest grin spread across his lips. "Hmh. I made it a long time ago, one of several weapons prepared just in case I needed a spare. This is just… the one that's never failed me."

The resulting contemplative silence as each girl looked from him to the weapon was broken by a smiling Yang. With a light jab, she wrapped her knuckles against him. "You'll have to show us what you can do with it some time. After all, you're on _our_ team now. Gonna have to make sure you can watch our backs, right?"

Hunter's grin spread a little wider, his expression hardening by microcosms. "Well, if a half-conscious me can take on… how many was it?"

"Baker's dozen!"

"-Thirteen of you and still hold my own, I'd say I can protect your collective behinds with… _decent_ sufficiency."

The sarcastic smirk got a mirrored response from both Yang and Blake. Weiss remained static in her seat, despite the energetic ravenette who giggled with incessant cuteness beside her.

With that, their meal ended and they began their trek back to the dorms. It might have been "tour back to the dorms" were it not for full bellies diffusing any excessive energy in their bodies. Their vigor spent and the long day coming to a close, they walked the winding ways of their dorm's halls, eventually coming to a particular door. With a wave of a scroll, the door's lock clicked, unlatching and allowing them entrance. What Hunter found on the other side of that door gave him immediate pause.

"Erm…"

For once, he was at a loss for words. Not that he was one to banter much regardless, but rarely had he actually been so stumped as to be unable to bring any sort of comprehensible words forth. Inside the room were four beds. Two sitting, as they should, on the floor, personal belongings spread between them; books, tools, papers, devices… But it was the beds directly above them that made him blink several times to make sure he was seeing things correctly. On the right of the room, the second bed was placed, precariously so he might add, atop a quartet stack of books, presumably to allow for additional headroom for the lower bunk's inhabitant.

The second bed on the left side however was… very unsafe looking. It was suspended in the air by only a series of rope anchors fastened to the ceiling, as well as somehow also coupled to an overhanging sheet that draped over the bed in its entirety. Idly, he likened it to more of a tent than any sort ofcommon _bed._

Ruby interrupted his musing with a smile. "Here we are! Home sweet home!"

The four girls stepped in and began miscellaneous doings. Hunter crossed the threshold with unfamiliar cautiousness. Almost instantly he could feel it. There was energy in this room. A meridian flow of verdant light. It splashed gently against every corner and enveloped the four girls in its tender waves.

The instant those same waves touched him though, like a sickening taint, a corruptive black curse seeped into that wonderful energy, wherein it returned to the girls. This was _their_ place; a place they called a home, with home-like energy and love. He was intruding on that home. Even now, the calm sensations of peace and comfort that should envelop every iota of the room was disturbed, not just by him, but also by the distrusting, or rather, unfamiliar suspicious of girl in white.

He didn't like it. He shouldn't be here.

"Hey, don't make that face…" He was stirred from his frowning thoughts by Ruby as she grabbed him by the hand with both of hers. "Come on, get in here!"

With a tug, he was drawn in, the door closing behind him. In a moment, he took in the room from its center. Though spacious, it wasn't overly large, nor were its empty corners overly depressing. The ornate red rug cushioned his footsteps and the poster-plastered walls served to fill the void of the rooms white partitions. A single large window divided the two pairs of beds with a crimson curtain covering it. Beneath that was a bookcase that spanned the divide between both bottom beds, and it was filled with numerous texts that upon initial glances appeared to be scholarly headings: _The Study of Biology, The Study of Astronomy, Mathematics and Geometry, The Essential Annotated World Histories, Survivor's Guide to Grimm, Ninjas in Love, Notable Weapons of the Fallen Ages_ … The list continued, though his eyebrows raised more than a smidgeon at the last few titles.

"It's not much, but it's ours," she continued, clambering up onto the top left bunk. Hers apparently. She rounded herself and looked at him over the edge. "What do you think?"

The other three girls had found their beds as well, and he was left standing between them. He took a moment to gather himself. "A pity we can't reverse gravity. The only decent space left for me is the ceiling."

Ruby chuckled, agreeing. "Yeah. We had a hard time fitting everything in here with four beds. No way we'll be able to fit another one." Her aimed her last few worlds at her friends, more as an unasked question than as a statement.

"At this point I'd like to reiterate my offer of 'the floor,'" Weiss quipped disinterestedly, raising her eyes to glower at him. He pretended he didn't see it.

His eyes wandered the room, noting an ajar door off to the side that revealed what appeared to be an on-suite bathroom, and from the looks of things, it was filled with ladies… garments.

He pretended he didn't see that either.

"I'd certainly take you up on your 'offer,' would it not inconvenience you so," he returned lightheartedly. "I doubt you'd want to have to step over my body in the night."

Yang raised a hand to her chin in thought, sharing a look with Ruby in so doing. Weiss seemed no more motivated to put forth a solution than a cat might to a brand new puppy. However, Hunter was surprised when one came from the lips of the black-garbed Blake. Solution that is, not puppies.

"How about a hammock?"

The four of them turned to her in surprise. Ruby's eyes lit up as the mental image fell into place in her mind's eye. "Yes, _of course._ Why _not_ use the ceiling?" With a grin and a flash of red, she flew past Hunter, sending him spinning, only to spin him 'round even more on her return trip. In a matter of seconds (that left him whirling like a ballerina) she held in her hands all the necessary tools and materials for their new project.

He blinked as, with record speed, three young women set about preparing the hammock, nailing ropes to the ceiling, or looping them through anchors and affixing them to the posts of their own beds. This surprised him. He was not used to seeing young women so… handy.

When they were done, there was a spider web of lines encircling a spare bed sheet that hung from said lines. The ropes surrounding them, though at first glance seeming unnecessarily excessive, actually revealed themselves to be a sort of ladder, allowing access to his high cradle.

"Ta-dah!"

Weiss looked up from a mathematics book she was studying to slump dejectedly at the rest of her team. "Oh _wonderful_ , let's give him an even higher vantage point to peep on us!"

Hunter was about to protest, but the blonde cut him off as she dropped from the rope she was hanging from onto the floor in front of the Schnee. "Oh, come on Weiss. There's no reason we can't all be adult about this."

"Except me! I'm not technically an adult yet!" quipped Ruby.

Weiss closed the book with a _thump_ and stood with her hands planted on her hips crossly. "Be adult about this?" she parroted, her expression hardening as she grew closer to the blonde. "I feel like I'm the only one thinking this through at all!"

Hunter raised a finger to interject but was cut off by Yang, who either wasn't paying him any attention or chose to ignore him intentionally. He sighed as she ranted back, his expression hardening as well as they tore into each other. Hunter returned the hand attached to that finger to his pocket and glanced sideways at the room around him again. He wasn't one to let another fight his battles, but in this case, getting in the middle might just make things worse. Ruby threw him an apologetic look and shrugged her shoulders as if to say, "If there was something I could do, I would. But there's not so… sorry."

Hunter shook his head to brush off her apology. It wasn't her fault. Really it wasn't even _his_ fault. The blame lay entirely on Headmaster Ozpin. The man must have known this situation would arise… he _had_ to; who _wouldn't_ have thought so?

But then his eyes fell on a bundle of sheets in the far corner, all balled up and tossed away. He blinked as a thought entered his mind and he gestured to Ruby to follow him. She did so blankly.

"…and more to the point, we _hardly_ know him! One meal's-worth of backstory doesn't exactly make us close enough to share a room together."

"Well if you're that defensive about it then why don't you just set up a curtain or something?"

"Ahem…"

Both pairs of eyes broke from each other and turned to regard Hunter, only to blink as they saw what he was standing in front of. Across half of the room, a large thick sheet hung like a screen, eclipsing any view he might have from the hammock or from his side of it. Ruby was just finishing tying it to one of the many strands of rope, teeth clenching one of the many lines as she secured it to the elaborate web.

Yang's anger disappeared instantly. "Oh, huh… Great minds think alike!"

Weiss growled but made no more motions to argue, returning to her bed and book with an intentionally audible huff.

"But really," Yang continued, "you didn't have to make it so… huge."

"It's simply…" Hunter searched for a word. "…proper." He gestured to the little one in the web above him. "Besides, as Ruby said, she's not yet an adult, and I'd like to avoid invading _anyone's_ privacy if at all possible."

He eyed the white haired girl warily. "I trust this will do… for _all_ parties involved?"

Weiss looked up from her book and regarded him for a moment, eyeing both him and the curtain that would stand between them in the night. Finally, she gave a short huff. "It will do," she said disdainfully, " _for now._ "

Hunter smiled acceptingly. "Good then, that's settled. I… Um…" he faltered, scratching his chin. Yang and Blake looked at him curiously. Though the window was obscured by its own curtain, the uncovered semi-circle above it revealed the white rays of moonlight without. "…Does anyone have the time? I don't have a watch on me at the moment."

Yang blinked at him in surprise and pulled out her scroll to glance at it. "Oh, its, uh, eleven-thirty. Why? You got a bed time?" she teased with a nudging elbow.

Hunter gave her a sly gaze askance and began clambering up the web of ropes. "Well, all things considered, I'd say I've had quite an eventful twenty-four hours. Wouldn't you?" The sheepish laughs from the two sisters all but confirmed their agreement.

"I will say this though," he began again as he eyed from his perch. "Circumstances aside… Thank you for taking me in." Their childish smiles were replaced by bright shining grins. Even Weiss' frown had turned itself upside down… a little.

Ruby planted her fists on her hips and proudly gave him a beaming grin. For a moment, the image of a little girl in a little red hood and dress disappeared. A long forgotten face imposed on hers, a taller, lither figure with ash-like hair that threatened to eclipse an eye.

"Hey, that's what friends are for, right?"

* * *

Hunter stood outside. The balcony of the great tower behind him allowed him to fully relax in the radiance of lunar light. It had been quite some time since he'd had a moment to just… bask. He could see how the little rays of light danced about him, the pale shadows he cast by simply being. His leather garb absorbed so much light… he was like a shadow himself. Such was the nature of hunters after all. The tapping steps alerted him to the presence of the other behind him. He did not turn to regard the man as he stepped up beside him.

"I see you received your effects," the man said with a sip of coffee.

Hunter nodded. He looked down at himself as if to double-check that he indeed had everything of his back. "This will not be the easiest role for me to play," he stated idly as he returned his gaze to the starry night sky. "But to find your little spies… this is the most efficient method."

Ozpin let out a small sigh, looking askance at the man beside him apologetically. "I'm sorry for getting you tied up in all this."

Hunter couldn't help a miniscule smirk from curving his lips. "Sorry that you _have to_ perhaps. But not sorry that you did." There was no notion of contention on the man's face, proof enough that his words were true. Hunter continued, staring up into the sky… "Our objectives may differ slightly, but for now, we walk the same path."

Ozpin's eyes fell on the back his new associate, coattails billowing in the wind of the high tower. If it weren't for his immense experience in things paranormal, the moment Hunter opened his mouth to speak upon their first encounter, he'd have labeled him _utterly mad_. But the truth was far more deceptive than that; true madness it seemed was in _disbelief._ Indeed, as he watched, the shadows of movement revealed themselves from the corners of Hunter's body. Little creeping things that slithered like snakes, yet clutched at things unseen in ways that resembled fingers without bones; coiling appendages more real that the human flesh he bore.

In that moment, Ozpin knew he wasn't talking to Hunter; not the physical, human manifestation he donned as one might a cloak. It was a monster. Like Salem. Yet not like her.

Yes… He'd said so himself didn't he? Before, when they'd first spoken.

He was a monster, born from humanity to fight that with which humanity could no longer contend. But the magicians behind the curtain, the _true_ monsters that set his creation into motion did their jobs perhaps _too_ well; After all, they all but created their own demise.

Yet, despite his current existence, the experiences he'd gone through prior to his… ascension… certainly left a distinguishing mark upon him. He bore it like a brand.

He was a hunter to end the hunt.

A beast to slay other beasts.

A god to contend with gods.

It was a part of who he was… _what_ he was. He simply could not abide the Grimm… no more than he could the plagues of poor, doomed Yharnam.

Align _indeed_ their goals did; to cleanse the world of Grimm. Of beasts. And to throw Salem down from her throne. What came after could be sorted out then. This was the first time in a long time Ozpin had had such an opportunistic ally reveal themselves to him.

"Would you like to see it?"

Ozpin was shaken by the tone of voice that came from Hunter's mouth. Or rather, it was the voice _itself_ that shook him. The enigma… the words that weren't words, yet he understood. The swimming in his vision… the vision itself that was more like scrolling images that each not-word elicited.

Hunter turned, the undulating mass of shadowy fingers twisting with him as he walked past. Ozpin's eyes followed his form as he approached a…

…Where had that come from?

A small little lamp sat planted in the floor, less by intent than if it had always been there… and always would. Reaching down, with a snap of his fingers, a pale blue light, so much like the moonlight all around them, lit from within.

Yet the light that seeped from it like a haze illuminated much more than Ozpin expected. The light traveled upward, up up up into the sky, where, once again like a haze, a shape took form.

As more and more of it was revealed, Ozpin steeled himself, his eye narrowing as he gazed upon it. He was silent for a moment, keenly aware of Hunter's eyes as they bored into him, seeking to know his response to their… revelation.

Finally, he spoke.

"When you said you were no longer human… I did not expect… _this._ "

The creature-called-Hunter's face was a void, with naught but the starlight of his eyes peeking through the impenetrable darkness; little pinpricks… like galaxies. He stepped up to Ozpin, drawing the man's undivided attention. The headmaster could feel the pressure of his gaze as a weight bearing down on him, little crackling whispers in his brain, like centipedes in his ears, a writhing notion behind his eyes.

"Oh, good hunter," the thing began, "we have so much to discuss." With a hand that Ozpin was sure had far too many fingers (if indeed it _was_ fingers he felt upon his shoulder), Hunter guided him back into his office. "Let us speak feverishly, then, into the wee hours of the morning, of the cosmos, and our place _in_ it…"

The balcony doors closed behind them, bathed as they were in the light of the moon, and of the small, mysterious lantern.

* * *

"…Ozpin?"

Ozpin blinked, looking between the lithe form of Glynda before him and the glowing rays of sunshine that streamed into the windows of his high office. In her hands was a cup of steaming coffee and an overstuffed folder tucked beneath her arms.

How had he gotten here? Hadn't he been…? Where was…?

"Are you alright Oz?"

It took a few moments for him to find his voice. "Y-yes… I think."

Glynda wasn't convinced… and neither was he. He pushed himself away from his desk, feeling the faint stiffness in his legs as he stood. He looked out the windows at the warming view of Beacon below.

"How…?" he began stutteringly. "…How long have I been here?"

Goodwitch raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, I _think_ all night." She gave him a long look; a scrutinizing look that made him feel so much like a child. "Are you sure you're alright Oz?"

He took a moment to collect himself. He'd been talking to Hunter until just a moment ago… hadn't he? And when had Hunter left? How long had they sat there? The whole thing was a blur…

Slowly, Glynda was beginning to suspect the culprit behind her friend's sudden condition, though Ozpin help up a hand to stop her from doing anything _overly_ rash.

"I'm fine, really," he said, the aura of pleasantness that commonly followed him around returning to once again settle upon him. He took a sip of his beverage, relishing the way the hot liquid spilled down his throat. God knew how much he needed caffeine right now.

After a few seconds of silence, he continued. "I just had a very… insightful discussion with our new friend last night. It seems I got carried away by my own thoughts and lost track of time."

"Ozpin…" Only now Glynda was looking at him as if he'd grown a second head. "No one but you and me have been in this room since yesterday afternoon."

At that, Ozpin had to pause. For a few seconds, he considered what that meant, but he let it go with a small breath. "Hmm… It seems our friend possesses a form of astral projection." He dwelled on that for a moment before he realized just what it was that was sitting invisibly just above their heads… and how it got to be there. More of the conversation last night came back to him. "And speaking of projection, did you manage to get a scroll set up for young Mr. Hunter?"

Glynda eyed her friend for a long moment before continuing tenuously. "Yes, I had it dropped off at team RWBY's dorm room this morning." She paused. "Along with a _comprehensive_ instruction manual."

Ozpin had to laugh at that. Indeed, though the hunt hadn't changed between the ages and between the worlds, the technological differences were like night and day. Hunter might know much about the true nature of the world, but in regards machinery, he was a hopeless fool. Oh, he played it cool as well as anyone might, but the gaps in his technological knowledge were glaring. It was fortunate they had already decided on his backwater backstory; it would help fill in some of those gaps as far as _others_ were concerned.

"On that note, you weren't the only one up all night, I'll have you know," she said as she let the folder beneath her arms fall to the desktop with a _slam._ "Everything we have so far on Hunter, compiled succinctly and systematized for easy reference."

Ozpin reached out to slide the article over to him, leafing through it with scanning eyes. "Excellent, though I think there is much more to be added."

At Glynda's not-so-subtle glare, he gave a disarming smile and a glance. "Don't worry. After last night, I fear I'm the only one eligible to append these records." He shook his head as his memories of the previous night returned in flooding waves. So much knowledge, so freely given…

Though, it wasn't as if Hunter was trusting them with the information, save that they kept the information's progenitor a secret. Rather, everything he'd spoken if was… necessary for them to know, lest the enemy catch them unawares. Do you keep an imminent atomic disaster a secret from a tribe of primitives when they lay within its path? Most would. So few would take the time to educate the savages; yet here Hunter was, stooping low, taking the time and energy to… what? _Uplift_ them? Or perhaps he was simply informing them… He could have just as easily ignored them.

"Have you decided what team to place him on yet?" Glynda asked, leaning against the desk. "He can't be a permanent part of team RWBY after all. I mean, maybe the H could be silent…"

Ozpin sighed. That _was_ a dilemma. Since it was the middle of the year and teams had already been established, there was no place for Hunter to go, save for team RWBY's rather coerced adoption of him. Perhaps in the coming semester they'd get enough transfers to set him up on his own team, but until then, what was he to do?

But then, they'd discussed that last night as he recalled.

"For now, he wishes to stay with RWBY, shadow them," he stated, the words flowing from his mouth as fast as his memories could catch up. In fact… He stopped his perusing and looked over at his calendar, noting the date and its contents. Today was…

"Oh my," he began with some degree of facetiousness. "I almost forgot…"

The big red circle besieged the date.

 _BEGIN VYTAL FESTIVAL PREP._

* * *

Hunter yawned as he was woken by the beeping alarm from somewhere below. He peeked over the edge of his hammock and eyed the silhouettes behind the veil, illuminated by the rising sun outside the window. It seemed the other four were already awake and aware. The perks of a scheduled lifestyle.

The shifting of cloth revealed the four as they crossed the barrier between sides of the room, the blonde shoving a playful fist into the bottom of his makeshift bed.

"Come on Hunter, up-and-at-'em!"

"I'm already up," he pointed out with a sigh, rolling out of bed and gripping a rope before dropping to the floor in a crouch.

…which drew the attention of all four girls. "Oh, you got your clothes back?"

He blinked as he looked down at himself. Sure enough, his clothes had been returned the night before, or rather, he'd returned them to _himself._ He hadn't thought to change out of them before grabbing what few moments of shut-eye he could get.

"Well, uniforms _are_ only required for formal meetings, right?" he questioned with a pointed look at the four of them. They looked down at themselves, noting they too were in casual-wear. "I've never been a big fan of monkey suits," he said with chagrin, pulling at the phantom knot of a tie at his neck.

Shrugging the youngest of the quartet dropped the matter, only to pick up on another. "Sooo… You'll never guess what today is!"

He glanced vacantly from her to the calendar on the wall. "…Tuesday?"

"Nooo! I mean, yes it is but- Oooh! That means tacos today! But _actually_ it's the beginning of the Vytal festival!"

Noting how his reaction was even _more_ vacant… if such a thing was possible…

"You _do_ know what the Vytal festival is, don't you?" Weiss asked in that Weiss-way that almost always insulted one's intelligence; he was becoming ever-so familiar with it.

"I've heard of it," he elaborated… not really. "It's not like I can compete though," he said with genuine dismay in his tone. Competition was a universal process of evolution. He was living proof of that. And as outclassed as any of his opponents might be against him, it didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy being able to compete against the burgeoning hunters, or rather, huntsmen and huntresses in this world.

The distinction was important.

"Sure it's a festival, but it's also a tournament. A _team based_ tournament," he iterated for emphasis. "Besides, I doubt professor Ozpzin would be willing to allow me to participate anyway. Letting a new student into your school just before a competition? Tell me that doesn't reek of nepotism."

"Well sure, but that's only if you're _actually_ good," Yang teased with a nudge.

Hunter narrowed his eyes at her wryly, recalling how much trouble little ol' him caused for the four of them previously. But considering Weiss' ever-present scowl stemming from a deep-seeded and honestly legitimate sense of distrust towards him, it was probably best not to bring that up again… for a while.

"Still," he admitted with a shrug on the way out the door. "It's unfortunate."

* * *

"Come on, _come on!_ We're gonna be late, you sloggers!" the girl chided as she lead her three teammates down the long highway leading up the walls of Beacon Academy. Behind her, the three males didn't bother even _trying_ to heed her words.

"Give it a rest Calli, no one's busting their ass for _you_ ," came the disinterested tone from the first boy.

"Okay, Jeri. There's a _nice_ way to say it, and then there's _your_ way…"reprimanded the second boy to the first.

" _Oh!_ There goes Janus again and his high-and-mighty attitude," the first one retorted, dripping with sardonicism.

"Enough Jericho," a fourth, commanding voice cut in, silencing the other two. "Callisto isn't worrying for nothing," he chided reproachfully. "After all, we were expected to arrive in Beacon last week. They probably thought we got eaten by some Grimm or something en route… They probably won't have any rooms left for us by the time we get there… Though, this is Beacon, not Haven we're talking about, so maybe there will be."

The girl turned to her defender with a sour face, thankful, but still sour. "Man Proteus, you just suck the optimism out of everything…"

Proteus gave a small, humorless smirk. "Fortune favors the prepared. Mentally. Physically. Consider every possibility and you'll never be surprised."

Jericho rolled his eyes dismissively. As capable as Proteus was (and Jericho had to give credit where it was due) he was a walking textbook. The guy could reiterate any lesson he'd ever heard, but for some reason conveniently forgot the lessons regarding humility; the headmaster had told him many, _many_ times that just because he "knows" something, doesn't mean he actually _knows_ it. It was the difference between theoretical preparedness and practical, and Proteus had a tendency to fall somewhere well outside the realms of practicality. "Yeah, well your gloomy 'preparations' are going to bring storm clouds overhead in no time, so cut it out."

Still, he wasn't one to poke an ursa unnecessarily. After all, Proteus wasn't the fiery, explosive type; if he wanted revenge, he'd plan it out, and you'd never see it coming. And right now, they needed to focus less on each other's gripes and more on the upcoming events… provided they actually managed to get to Beacon on time for said events.

Janus threw his elbow out to rib his fellow, a mocking smirk on his face. "What's the matter, Jeri? You 'fraid to get wet?"

The look he returned was deadpan bewilderment. " _You're_ the one who can't swim, blockhead!"

This might have been the point where Proteus would interject again to keep his teammates on track, but instead he favored tenderly rubbing his temples, nursing the headache that had been growing since a few days prior. " _Oh my God…_ I'm going to die out here with you idiots…"

The wooded forests that surrounded Beacon Academy were rarely filled with Grimm of any particular consequence, though one would not find it unusual to find the occasional roving pack of evil looking for an easy meal. At the very least, Proteus knew they were getting close to their destination, if the distinct lack of Grimm the past forty-eight hours was anything to go by.

"Ugh, why did the headmaster think it was a good idea to put us all on the same team anyway?" Callisto bellyached as Proteus caught up to her, more to put distance between the two hellions behind him than any desire to actually be near her.

For her part, the girl preferred his company to theirs any day, regardless of his reasoning. "Hey, at least he didn't send _her_ to babysit us."

Of course… _Her_ … Proteus' expression soured slightly at the mention of the woman in question. "Yeah… I guess."

Callisto gave a curious glance his way. It wasn't unusual for Proteus to be quiet and withdrawn, but she hadn't been his teammate for the better part of a year without picking up on certain subtle clues. There was something on his mind that he wasn't sharing.

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Proteus…" she drew his name, making her suspicions known with only that. He eyed her, likely gauging whether sharing with her would actually benefit either of them, or if he could likely stave off her pestering until she gave up.

But experience dictated that her persistence far outstripped his patience. The only winning move was not to play.

"Hrmph," he grumbled as he scratched his chin idly. He returned his gaze to his teammate carefully, leaning in close enough for her to hear him murmur. "About that…" His eyes turned to the peaceful surrounding forests. "Don't you think we've encountered too few Grimm on our journey?"

Callisto blinked at him in surprise. Too few? They'd encountered far too many if he asked her. Wait… he _was_ asking her. "Um… No?"

But Proteus wasn't convinced. "Seriously. Of course we've gotten into a few tussles since we started out, but it's never been anything we couldn't handle. Don't you think that's weird."

Callisto shook her head and slapped him on the shoulder. "That's one of your best and worst traits, Pro; you think too much." She moved ahead, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. He frowned at her retreating form as she went ahead to scout.

Was he though? Overthinking things? Maybe. Correlation didn't necessarily equal causation. That had been something the headmaster had taught him, and it meant a lot in a hunt; not every clue meant what one might think it did. One's own mind might make connection that don't necessarily make sense, and develop a strong, indescribable belief in these notions; this was called intuition. The old man had taught him that in all his many years, regardless whether a person was book smart or street smart, intuition never lied. Never once.

So then… was this intuition? Or was this him overthinking things? He eyed the forest all around him. Surely there was an explanation… Maybe it really was nothing. He let out a sigh, unable to shake the strange unsettling sensation both in his gut and in the back of his head. At the very least, however, he wouldn't let his suspicions consume his attention.

He continued on after them.

* * *

The woman peered softly from behind the trunk of the tree, a keen smile tugging the corner of her lips. The boy's form turned from surveying his surroundings to return to his travels. Of all of them, Proteus was the most observant, but also the most unsure of himself. Watching him mature into a proper, seasoned hunter would be no less than a treat. But if even the four of them couldn't detect her, even as she silently slaughtered Grimm left and right along their path to Beacon, then they all had quite a ways to go before her old friend and mentor graduated them.

She eyed the rapidly disintegrating crumpled form of an ursa Grimm, her weapon in hand and dripping with vaporizing Grimm blood. She swiped to her right, flinging what she could off of it and withdrawing a small white cloth from her coat, carefully running it along both sides of the blade. Even if the blood would _mostly_ vanish, it wouldn't do to let it set into the steel. After all, a hunter's weapon was their most trusted possession, and more valuable than a hundred soldiers.

She quickly sheathed it with a flourish, less out of conscious intent than by years of intense training and experience. She leapt into the trees, up through the canopy to the very top, gazing across the forest to the barely visible horizon, the reflecting sunlight of the city far in the distance flashing like a beacon to lost ships.

Beacon itself.

She could already see the speck in the distance, floating in the air in multicolored glory, Amity coliseum, where the young men and women of every school would soon join in battle. This would be an opportunity for them to prove themselves as warriors able to stand toe-to-toe with the students of the world's greatest academies. And these four weren't the only team representing their little school.

She let out a short breath as she peered at Beacon. She had to admit, it was a shining (literally) example of what civilization could do when they weren't pushed to the brink of extinction by the malevolent forces of the world.

She liked this view… up high where everything appeared so much clearer; physically, obviously, but also intellectually. After all, every great breakthrough in science, religion, or otherwise were brought about by someone wisely taking a step back. Gaining a new perspective. It was what she'd endeavored to do all those years ago… When _that_ problem had reared its ugly head, she knew that ordinary methods would not be enough to solve it. So she took a step back, and the way became clear.

It was probably how she'd gained the moniker "of the Astral Clocktower" in the first place…

* * *

 **A/N: Ooooohhh! How did that happen?! Guess you'll just have to favorite and alert this story to find out~! Hehehehee! Nevertheless, if you made it this far, then I thank you profusely for taking an interest in my work! If you liked, be sure to leave a short (lengthy) review saying so, along with any questions or comments you might have for me! I'm usually pretty good about responding promptly to direct messages.**

 **May our parting be short my friends, and may the good blood guide thy way!**


	3. Chapter 3: Measured by Manner

**A/N: Chapter three, chapter three, where can you be? Oh, right here! Took me a while but I finally finished it! Actually, to be perfectly honest, I wrote way more than what is in this chapter, but I realized I that the pacing was _way_ too fast for a single chapter, so I cut it off at an appropriate point. I hope you all enjoy it to your heart's content!**

 **A quick shoutout to those who took the time to review the alst chapter and give me their thoughts! They are appreciated more than you know!** ultima-owner, garoorar, Warden of Lore, Tchami, YharnamHunter2092, neo567, A Whimsical Seishin, Slayer of The Abyss, Akshka, Basia Orci, Rook115, The Baz, Matemeo3, doughxDude87, The Twin Wraiths, The Great Half-Dragon, BIONIZARD55, desdelor97, Mrcrazyman94, themaskedswordsman, Axcel, Demondash666, Kaioo, Metronome I hear, Ryoji Mochizuki, **and every unregistered** Guest **as well!**

 **Now, let the hunt (story) begin!**

* * *

 **Chapter Three,  
** **Measured by Manners**

Many hold dualism as truth. That all things are of two aspects; two perspectives. Black and white, good and evil... But this is not reality. The world is not _just_ black and white. And good and evil…? Hardly so.

We can see these things as only because we wish to find some form of order in the chaos. In fact, even order and chaos are unique or foreign in human conception. But the truth is much more convoluted. An action made for the benefit of another, what a common individual might call good, may irrevocably injure or harm another. To feed a starving family member, one must steal from an honest baker. To protect a fellow soldier, you must bring harm to the opposition.

There is no rhyme or reason to goodness or malevolence in this world I think. There is only prey and predator.

Assuming that to be the case, what then is the nature of balance? Is powerlessness evil? Is strength righteous? I heard this question echo through the Dream, spoken by another, far, far away, and I had no answer.

But that was a long, long time ago, and I have grown much since then.

This world is, as all worlds are, filled with those who use their unique talents and gifts to gain an advantage over their contemporaries. I cannot abide them, though in notable irony that is exactly what I am.

When I was young I thought to myself that I must have been unique to have done what I had, and to have become what I am today. I realize now that that is simply a subjective opinion based in a void of counter-positional stances. Though I was ascended to such a state of divinity that any common man could correctly attribute me to a god – or devil I suppose – my heart was still with those who had yet to glimpse the true nature of the callous and unforgiving eternity in which they unwittingly resided. Not unlike how one might observe a nest of ants, many look down on humankind. But they can not understand the depths of our limited vision. Imagine seeing in all directions at once. A vision spanning all three hundred and sixty degrees.

Now try, if you can, to comprehend _narrowing_ that gaze to only a single cardinal direction. A nauseatingly restricted perspective.

In the same way, these magnificently terrible beings cannot understand just what it means to be _Human._ To be so much _less_ than they are.

I trust no equal, so I must have no equal. I will be the only apex. The only thing worth being feared. I will hunt the world to extinction if need be. But, recall, dualism is not truth. There _is_ predator, and there _is_ prey, but what about prey that rise against the predator? This is the third species.

There is no righteousness in strength, but rather strength in righteousness.

Yes… I can accept these anomalous deviants, for they are my kin in spirit.

They are… _mine_.

 _My hunters._

* * *

Hunter's eyes twitched, his vision focusing and focusing in irritation as he beheld the portly gentleman who called himself "Professor Port." All along the white boards, which were apparently different from chalkboards, were all manner of anatomical depictions of the creatures Grimm. Along with them was a large number of books and crates. Honestly it looked as if the man had just returned from an expedition and had yet to properly clean up the place. Nevertheless, what truly set his nerves on edge was that this boisterous, bloviating, mustachioed meat-bag was the very same one who'd coordinated his defeat at the border. How were the children ever supposed to be prepared to fight Grimm when all he seemed interested in was recounting glorious battles of the days of yore?

But a man must be allowed his eccentricities, he supposed. Surely some value lay deep in the tales he wove but for Hunter's part, he couldn't see it.

Beside him sat Blake, nose deep in a book wholly unrelated to the subject of the day. Such was her prerogative. Hunter noted her sharp eyes and the manner in which she would occasionally jot down a sentence or two on the notebook in front of her. It was evident she was capable of concentrating on two things at once, which was a trait not often observed in girls her age. But then, bookworms like her were often a cut above the rest in intellectual faculty. Beyond her sat Yang, the golden-haired girl resting her heard against a loose fist as she listened, clearly uninterested, but no less attentive. Across the room sat the two remaining members of team RWBY, the aloof Weiss Schnee and titular Ruby Rose. Weiss was paying attention, though it looked to him by the pained look on her face that it seemed it cause no small amount of discomfort to do so while Ruby sat with her head buried into the crook of her elbow, no doubt dozing off as the professor babbled on.

He leaned over and murmured to his black-haired companion. "Does the man usually exacerbate so much?"

His answer came with a wry nod. That did not bode well for the rest of the semester.

However, in between the many hyperboles were glimmers of truth which bit by bit pieced together an image of what the Grimm were and how they had for so long infested the world. But the tidbits of truth were too far and far between for his liking.

"I don't know… he seems pretty chill today," came Yang's counter as she gave a shrugging dismissal. "He's actually being pretty informative today."

Hunter's eye almost twitched. _This_ was informative?

Resisting the urge to palm his face, a jolt ran through his body as the shrill bell rang, signaling the end of the class. Finally.

He stood with a groan, feeling the stiff muscles stretch beneath his skin. "Alright!" Yang cheered as she stood, stretching one arm over her head. "Don't worry if you missed any notes. We all just copy off of Weiss."

Hunter blinked. He was supposed to be taking notes? Oops. "Right. I suppose if she's fine with that then I'll accept." He flipped open his scroll, the device still so distinctly foreign to him. If there was one thing that still eluded him about the world it was the nature of technology and its immense progress past the age he was born into. How a transparent piece of glass was able to display moving pictures and react to touch he hadn't the foggiest idea. Nevertheless, he forced his wonder down. An inhabitant of this world would not be surprised by such things and he had a part to play after all.

Meandering through the steps he'd forced himself to memorize, he selected his daily agenda and perused its contents. "Next we have combat class." He pursed his lips. "Am I reading this right?"

Yang patted a hand on his shoulder. "Just think of it like a gym class, except every day is dodgeball day."

He gave a hesitantly nod. Subtly, he had to look up what "dodgeball" was on his scroll.

Modern society was very queer.

"I suppose I'll follow you then," he announced as the girls met in the center of the class and ascended the stairs out.

"Don't worry, professor Goodwitch isn't that scary, at least not when she's teaching," Ruby said with a smile, walking backwards in front of them.

Hunter recalled the looks the blonde woman woman gave him when they first met, frowning. "I'll contend that point."

Ruby gave a satisfied smile and nodded her head, "Thank you," before slinking over to Blake and whispering, "what's 'contend' mean?" to which Blake could only give a smirk and a roll of her eyes while shaking her head.

"It means 'argue,'" Weiss explained simply.

Ruby let out an "Ooooh…" before readdressing the boy in front of her. "Really though she's not as bad as she seems. She's actually pretty nice!"

Yang shrugged. "I actually have to agree with Rubes on this one. Goodwitch's stickler for the rules, but that _is_ her job, so…"

"I suppose I'll take your word for it," he conceded, albeit reluctantly.

Between her and Ozpin, she seemed the less enlightened, but certainly the fiercer. If his instincts were right, and they were rarely wrong, she would viciously protect herself and her students if it came to a fight. He wasn't keen on experiencing _that_ fury.

But she also didn't strike him as the kind to charge dumbly headlong into battle; far from it in fact. If she was teaching these tactics and battle strategy, then he was certainly inclined to hear what she had to offer.

Presently they made their way to the cafeteria, the long lines of tables already filling with students as they funneled in from their dismissed classes. What he saw made him pause. On each table lay an _enormous_ amount of food. Fit for a feast. Fit for a king! He'd scarce seen such delicious morsels in all his days. Was food so abundant that they could afford such a banquet?

"Remnant to Hunter… Still there?"

He blinked as he eyed the four girls. Caught him staring did they? "Forgive me… I've never seen so much food in my life," he said with genuine honesty. It was true after all, and it must have shown on his face.

"This? This is every day for us."

He found himself at a loss for words. Almost immediately, Blake's eyes widened slightly, and she placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "This must be so strange for you."

He noted her gesture and nodded breathily. "It is."

A faint expression of… something… crossed Weiss' face as she went ahead, presumably to reserve seating for the five of them. Ruby's eyes softened as she realized just how privileged they were at Beacon and imagined what it must feel like to see so much food in one place when the only things you've eaten are what you could scrounge on your own.

Yang noticed the somber noted in the air and smiled despite it, patted his back, pushing him forward. "Well, feel free to eat your fill. There's plenty where this all came from."

Hunter nodded absently as the girls led him over to where Weiss was waving for them to join her.

He settled for sitting beside Ruby and Blake, with Weiss and Yang sitting across the table, rapidly putting various foods on their plates. He followed suit, adding things that looked appetizing or familiar and some that did not. Of course, there were certain customs that seemed to be observed when eating a meal, which they quickly took upon themselves to show him. Putting gravy and butter on top of mashed potatoes, salting… pretty much everything, lining salad leaves in a viscous liquid dressing he'd never heard of, dipping stalks of celery in an unappetizing mud they called _peanut butter_ … And it went on.

The process was both amusing and humbling to the girls, and he could see it on their faces. How strange it was to him to see all these different foods he'd never had, and how strange for them to imagine never having access to such sustenance.

When they'd managed to acclimate him to what they called "the basics" they turned their attentions to their own meals, vigorously consuming large helpings of, well, _everything_. And despite himself, he found that he followed their lead. Much like the night previous where calamari was the menu, he ravenously devoured each new thing that was recommended to him. Of course, that took a turn for the worse Yang began suggesting some outrageous combinations. He learned to tread carefully when considering her proposals.

Soon the gluttony diminished, and their appetites were sated. They continued to eat small portions of what was left on their plates as they settled down. It was an interesting phenomenon, the silence of satisfaction. It allowed him to closely examine each girl individually. Yang seemed to be the easiest to wrap his mind around; she was a fighter through and through, her muscles toned well, her ample bosom exposed just enough to distract, her sly nature no doubt a boon in combat… And more than enjoying life, she enjoyed _living._

Weiss was aloof, always willing to state her opinion as fact, and content to assume she was right until proven otherwise. But she was sharply intelligent, perceptive, if a bit too arrogant to take advantage of it. She had the air of a noble or a princess, which led him to wonder if the Schnee were some well-to-do family that garnered respect. Oh, and dainty. She was the only one who used a napkin.

Blake was quiet, contemplative. She preferred to observe, like himself, but the kinship between her and the other girls was so obvious that he wondered what her secret might be. How one who keeps to herself could become so close with other people. But what confounded him was the strange scent that crossed his nostrils when he focused on her. It was not human, that was for sure, and immediately he felt concern weigh on him like a heavy blanket. Grimm were beasts of a different type; humans weren't at risk for… Grimmification? Grimm just _were_ , which was why it was so _confusing_ that the girl smelled so much like a… something not human.

Ruby was the most interesting of the bunch. She was small; if he stood at his full height she would be two heads smaller than him. But she was _lively_ , springing with the energy that came with pubescent youth. Her excitement was infectious as she spoke in such tones that compelled his interest even in subjects he knew nothing about. She was sensitive, as a young girl should be, yet so few were. Her empathy was a credit to her character, and she bore further examination. Strangest of all though was that she was so _much_ younger than anyone else who he'd seen at Beacon so far. If Beacon were a school, then was she perhaps a genius of some sort? He needn't make a mental note to find out more.

A commotion across from the way drew their attention away from each other. A young man was poking fun at a girl with…

"Are those rabbit ears?"

"That's Velvet," Yang said with no small amount of pity. "Cardin likes to pick on her because she's a Faunus."

Hunter eyed his companion curiously. "Faunus?" He asked, brief flash of recognition in his mind as he recalled Ozpin mentioning them in passing. To Hunter, the girl was as much human as anyone else, save for the singular trait of her ears. When asked whether the Faunus were the product of some sort of plague, Ozpin was quick to deny it. He seemed rather insistent that they were due the proper common decency and respect any other human was. It was curious concept, a human that was also animal…

He blinked as scent entered his nostrils. She smelled like…

His eyes flickered to the bow-bearing girl across from him. Before she could notice his gaze, he noted the particular disgust with which she regarded the boy teasing the brunette. He sharpened his gaze.

Ah… So that was it.

Blake was suddenly aware of him staring within her peripherals and turned her attention to him. As soon as she did, his eyes turned away so fast she wondered if she'd actually seen it. But she had; she was sure. It was such an intense look of poignant scrutiny that she felt the hackles of her neck rise.

"Is this commonplace?" he asked as soon as he averted his gaze, to which Weiss nodded.

"There's a lot of animosity between Faunus and Humans. I speak from experience…" Her somber expression spoke of shame ass she lowered her eyes to fixate on her plate, all pretense gone.

Hmm, perhaps there was _more_ to the girl than prideful bluster… He'd make sure to explore that point at a later date.

He returned his eyes to the scene, the girl, Velvet timidly asking the boy to stop, which he didn't.

Hunter sighed and looked down at his meal. "As petty as it is for the arrogant to pick on the weak, she could certainly try standing up for herself," he said with a sidelong look at the commotion. Of course, as expected, the looks from the four girls told him all he needed to know about their stance on bullying, or maybe just Cardin in particular. Or maybe it was because the Velvet girl was a Faunus? But as right as he was, he knew his words would ring hollow in their ears. After all, in a world that emphasizes forward thinking and the value of positivity, it made sense that the youth hold to some measure of idealism that adults had long since cast aside in favor of "reality." In that regard he was very much like Weiss; he spoke from experience.

He took a vicious bite from a drumstick that nearly tore the whole of the meat off the bone.

"I don't... _disagree_ with you," Weiss began carefully, "but I certainly don't think it's right to pick on someone based on what they are."

Hunter eyed her, chewing thoughtfully. Blake seemed to be growing more and more irritated with the scene, less concerned with him or his opinions than with what was unfolding in front of her. He had little doubt if it went on for much longer that she would intervene. Which made perfect sense if his suspicions were correct.

His eyes flitted to and fro, looking… searching for something. He frowned. He didn't find it. With whirl, he turned on the bench and stood. Before any of the girls could realize what was happening, Hunter was gone.

Ruby had only turned her eyes away from him for a _second_ while Weiss was talking! When she turned back he'd disappeared. Turning left and right, she whirled as she watched the boy approach where Cardin and Velvet were standing. For a second Ruby was worried Hunter was going do something rash, like hit him. She felt a sigh of relief leave her lungs when Hunter walked right past them.

Only to recoil in shock as she saw Hunter turn, wrap his arms around the boy's midsection from behind and _lift._ For a brief moment, Cardin's face was one of uncomprehending surprise as he balanced on Hunter's center of gravity. The next instant, food was flying in the air as both sides of the table snapped upward, the center crushed by a devastating suplex that left Cardin's head spinning and rear end in the air.

The entire cafeteria went silent save for exclamative murmurs as every eye turned to the source of the commotion. With a flutter of clothing, Hunter stood again, brushing stray foodstuffs from his shoulder. Noting the many eyes upon him, Hunter opted to ignore then, turning to the human-hare. "Miss Velvet, I believe?"

She gave a startled nod. "Y-Yes. And... you are?"

He gave a curt bow of his head. "Hunter. Are you hurt?"

She took a moment to contemplate whether she was or wasn't. The shock of the sudden intercession was quickly wearing away. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

He nodded to her. "Good. For a moment, I feared his grip on your ear would turn vice-like."

The brief, almost imperceptible pause between "your" and "ear" was hopefully lost on the girl. He spoke before thinking to observe whether the ears were actually ears at all. Although Faunus might possess animal traits, he hadn't thought to question whether they were superfluous or not. As he spied, the red head did have human ears of her own. So perhaps the animal traits were simply evolutionary additions? He'd ponder that later.

As if to double-check herself, the girl reached up and gently stroked the ear that had been under Cardin's ministrations moments earlier. After an unsure second, her smile returned. "No, still attached," she said with a light chuckle, though whether it was genuine or in an attempt to diffuse the suddenly tense atmosphere he didn't know.

Cardin spoke up from his place as he brought himself to his feet. "That remains to be seen," he growled. Although Scarlet had been the target of his teasing, his gaze now fell solely and heavily on the interloper before him. There was a red in the boy's face that was likely a mix of embarrassment and rage. Hunter wasn't about to give him room to decide which it was.

Hunter turned to him fully. For a moment, even the hushed murmurings that had once been lively commotion a moment prior went silent. Everyone knew what it was. Both made themselves to be as imposing as possible, raising themselves to their full heights and doing their best to glower down at the other, though Hunter's height gave him quite the edge in that regard.

"Who do you think you are?" Cardin asked after a long moment of silence.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hunter countered with his own question.

Cardin blew out a puff of air. "We're just having a little fun. Is that a crime or something?"

Hunter felt a twitch threaten to assault his face, but he schooled himself. "Whose fun? Your fun? My fun? Her fun?" Hunter grunted dismissively. "Grow up."

He made to turn away before a rough hand turned him around. "The hell'd you say?"

Instantly they were separated by team RWBY, with Yang standing imposingly between them, her violet eyes mostly turned toward Cardin, though she saved a cautionary glance or two for Hunter as well. "That's enough!" she commanded, even as the rest of team CDRL suddenly caught up to support their leader.

Hunter allowed Ruby to drag him backwards two or three steps, keeping his eyes on Cardin as he raged. "Out of my way blondie!" Cardin demanded. "You gonna defend him? This freak who tried to kill us out on the border?" He scoffed. "Why are you protecting _him?!_ "

" _Headmaster Ozpin,_ made the decision," Weiss reminded coldly. "If you have a problem with that, then you can go talk to _him_."

Some of the wind seemed to blow from Cardin's sails at her reminder of the current authority but his fire was still going hot. "Just because he's the headmaster doesn't mean he's always right," he said with an accusing finger pointed at Yang. With a shrug of his shoulders, he freed himself of the hands that held him back. With a glowing look, he turned and made for the opposite side of the cafeteria.

The girls around Hunter slowly lowered their guards as he the boy distanced himself from them, and he gently brushed their steadying hands from his person. Yang was the first to speak as she turned from Cardin's back to Hunter's face.

"I'll be honest, that was pretty awesome what you did."

That hadn't been what Hunter had expected her to say. Given her character, he anticipated she would be the least likely to begrudge him a moment of passion. But he hadn't expected her outright praise. "I... Thank you."

Weiss on the other hand...

"What in the world were you thinking?!" He did his best not to flinch as she rounded on him. "Did you think you'd just fight it out and no one would stop you? Do you realize how much trouble we - _you_ would be in if that had happened?"

He paused to consider her words and he found himself laughing despite himself. That caught the Schnee off-guard. It had been some time since he'd considered the ramification of his actions in regards to authoritative repercussions. And now he was reminded that he had to, for all intents and purposes, "behave."

What a world, what a world.

"Forgive me, I don't mean to make light of your concern," he said as he suppressed his humor. "Just wanted to teach him some manners is all."

If there was a phrase that the girls had been expecting him to spout as an excuse, that _wasn't_ it. If Yang had been drinking milk, it would have shot out of her nose as she tried and failed to hold in her laughter. She held her sides as she laughed, Ruby and Blake joining in in due course, though not nearly as boisterously.

Weiss failed to see any humor in it at all, but she offered no more protests, only sinking to shaking her head and palming her face in bewilderment. To be fair, she was far too sensible to be a on a team with these three. But for all her sense, his actions, too, were logical. After all, if there was one thing that Hunter understood, it was that pain was the greatest disciplinarian. He wondered if she thought contrarily.

"Man, you are just a riot," Yang declared smacking him across his shoulder. "I wish I had your..." she trailed off waving her hands around her pelvic region. "You know. I'd have knocked Cardin through the window!"

Hunter raised an eyebrow and looked around the room. "Which window?"

Yang blinked and followed his gaze thoughtfully. "Probably all of them."

That drew a chuckle from him. "I appreciate your praise, but its nothing so heroic. It's just who I am; I see a problem, I take care of it the only way I know how."

Ruby rubbed up next to him. "Wiiiith overwhelming force?"

He gave a noncommittal shrug, grinning all the way. "Preferably."

* * *

When the excitement of the lunch hour spat had passed, they collected their things and headed off for their next class. It was when they were half way there that one of them realized that it was combat training class with Goodwitch, which meant they'd be seeing Cardin again very soon. In all likelihood, he and his team would call them out for sparring practice. If all went as usual, then Goodwitch would only permit matches between students _she_ selected, but it was not unheard of for her to honor challenges from one student to another.

Ruby hoped that Cardin would let it go and not bother. Though, she knew she was hoping against hope in that regard. She especially didn't want to see Hunter get hurt in a grudge match, especially when he was simply doing the right thing by standing up to Cardin... if not in the most appropriate manner (though with a sister like Yang, who was she to judge?). But the more she thought about it, the more concerned she grew for _Cardin,_ not Hunter. After all, it had taken the combined efforts of three teams of junior huntsman and huntresses to bring him down in the first place. And that was when he was going coo-coo for Coco Puffs. She couldn't put her finger on just _how_ he had managed to do that actually... Usually when one fighter holds out against several others, like in the movies, there was a checklist of reasons why they were able to do so. Personal skill and experience played a large role, as did the weaponry of the combatants. But in their fight, all Ruby could remember was always being on her toes, either to defend, attack or support. She just couldn't place what Hunter's strengths were.

In fact a itty-bitty teeny-weeny tiny-whiny part of of her hoped Hunter _would_ get called out. If only so she could watch him in action without actually being a _part_ of the action. ...Did that make her a mean person? Ahh, best not to overthink things.

"No but seriously, if he calls you out, wipe the floor with him."

And apparently everyone else was thinking the same thing.

Neat.

"I'll certainly do my best," Hunter agreed as they made their way into the classroom. Although he was acting modestly, it seemed to Ruby he wasn't the least bit concerned; the way he smiled and seemed to take in their surroundings with a curious eye as they walked betrayed no trepidation on his part for the upcoming class.

The room had a warm, welcoming sandy wood color to it, punctuated by cyan safety glass that edged the elevated semi-circle viewing stands above the depressed arena floor below. On either side of the stands were stairs that curled town to the floor. In the back of the room was a door that led into the locker room where each student's weapons were kept in storage, which they hurriedly entered.

Finding his locker, and quickly checking his scroll for the relevant data, he keyed in the random string of numbers that acted as his pass code. The coffin shaped storage unit opened with a _hiss,_ revealing an all-too familiar rustic-red gleam of ancient iron. It hung on a prong, carefully placed just so. Next to it was another prong, upon which hung the familiar cylindrical mass that was his trusty blunderbuss. He noted that at the bottom of his locker there was a case. Curiosity prompted him to stoop and open it. Inside was an assortment of shells of varying colors were lined up in neat little groups, nestled within a dark spongy material that cushioned each casing. On the inside of the lid was fastened a letter bearing the singular word, "Hunter." Peeling off the sticky strip of material that held it there, he opened it and read.

 _"Hunter. I hope this letter finds you in good spirits. If you are reading this, it is more than likely that you are about to participate in your first combat training class of the semester. Bearing in mind your hesitation to use modern materials to upgrade your equipment, I had a friend prepare some ammunition for your rifle. The slugs you find in the case before you are comprised of Dust, which I hope by now to have sufficiently educated you on. Due to the unique nature of your firearm; specifically its reloading mechanism and barrel dimensions, these rounds are custom made to fit your weapon and your weapon alone. If the use of Dust gives you cause for concern, feel free to experiment with them at your leisure._

 _Happy hunting,_

 _Ozpin."_

Blessed are the gifts given unexpectedly. Hunter made a mental note to thank the headmaster regardless of whether the rounds worked or not. Also in the case were the quicksilver bullets that had been on his person before his equipment had been confiscated. He stuck the letter onto the wall of the locker and began collecting the rounds. Although the use of new Dust cartridges intrigued him, walking into a fight with untested equipment was a catastrophe waiting to happen, so he, with great reluctance, only slipped two red casings into his bandoleer, filling the rest of the empty pouches with more familiar ammunition. Satisfied they were snug in their places, he gripped the pommels of his weapons with two hands and withdrew them, the familiar weight and heft settling over his shoulders and grounding him. To any proper fighter, a weapon must be to the warrior as your own limbs are to your body. Usage must be instinctual. Thoughtless. And one must know their limits.

Ah, but what comforting things limits are.

He nudged the door closed with the barrel of his gun. He was greeted with the sight of Yang adjusting a form-fitting yellow top around her chest.

"Oh, hey. Don't forget to double check you've got everything you need," she advised as she slipped her arms through the sleeves of a brown jacket. If memory served correctly it was the same outfit she'd been wearing when they'd first met in Ozpin's office.

Except he was fairly certain she'd been wearing a skirt before.

"I... did you just... right now...?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him curiously as she zipped the jacket together. Even after a few seconds of studying his expression, no light-bulb went off.

"...I have _so_ many questions..."

She confusedly cocked her head to the side as she tried to discern what he was talking about. Following his gaze, she looked to herself. "Um... yes?"

The face Hunter made would forever be marked in Yang's memory as the most amusing expression of disbelief she'd ever seen.

"...Let me clarify, just so I have things straight," he began his face still scrunched up. "You took off your uniform, stripped down to your undergarments, and put on a whole other outfit all while a man was standing not a single pace from you?"

Yang let her eyes dance as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "Yyyep, pretty much."

"...Have you no decency at all?"

She might have though he was joking, but even she could tell much of the humor had gone out of his expression. She might have taken offence to such an accusation, but she quickly remembered he wasn't from Beacon, and she wasn't up to snuff on the social policies in other areas of the world. That, and Hunter did seem to lean a tad on the conservative side. Now she felt kind of bad.

"Is that _not_ common where you're from?"

Hunter opened his mouth to respond, but quickly thought better of it. He was coming from a place of personal history, but "Hunter" was from Vacuo, a nation on Remnant. Standards were bound to be different, but he hadn't expected _such_ a difference. "I... no, it's not. Forgive me, I'm just gobsmacked. I understand that those who fight together as a unit should live together, but even the changing room is communal?"

Yang made an _-Oh-_ face as she began to put the pieces together. "Ohh... Well, first off _I'm_ not exactly shy, so I don't care much myself regardless. But I think the concept is that, since we're all training to be huntsmen and huntresses, and people _can_ die during missions, even those provided by the school, if we're mature enough to be sent out to fight genocidal monsters, we're mature enough to handle a little..." She searched for a word he might appreciate. "...undress."

Hunter's eyes narrowed. "I... see. Forgive me, it just... surprised me."

Yang almost let out a reflexive consolation, when a curious thought struck her. Narrowing her eyes as well she took a step closer. "You haven't ever... _seen_ a girl... have you?" she said in a lower tone.

Despite everything that Hunter was, he couldn't stop a surge of heat from rushing his face. More by reflex than by intent, he pulled the mask around his neck over his face, hiding it from view. His eyes refused to look at the girl, or her partially revealed assets. "No." He said simply, slightly annoyed that he was suddenly so flustered at the girl's question.

For several seconds, Yang fought the urge to laugh and almost failed as a snicker puffed her cheeks out, caught before leaving her mouth by a hand to her lips. That and she felt bad for almost carelessly exposing Hunter to something he might have considered... special? Or something.

Sucking in her humor as best she could (but failing to completely wipe away the ear-to-ear smile on her face) Yang composed herself. "Sorry, sorry, I know that shouldn't be funny. Tell you what, if it bothers you, I'll try to be more conscious around you. Deal?"

Hunter cleared his throat as the awkwardness turned to business. "Yes... Yes. Agreed. Though I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable either..."

For a moment, Yang almost let out an _awww._ Here she was making him feel out of place, and _he_ was worried about her comfort. This guy was a gentleman. And not the teen-kid-dressed-in-a-suit-and-tie, holding-the-door-open-for-the-ladies gentleman. But a real, genuine respectable gentleman.

"No, no, that's OK! It doesn't bother me. I just didn't expect you to be so..."

"Proper?" he completed.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I mean, to be honest, I thought guys like you died out centuries ago."

Hunter felt a twinge of irony at her words. "You have no idea." He shook his head as Yang slipped on a pair of gold bracers over her wrists. "Though, I did notice there was a shower room off to the side," he said pointing in the direction he'd spotted it. "Are those also...?"

This time Yang shook her head. "Nope. The showers in the locker rooms are separate. I mean, _pssh_ come on! There's maturity and then there's tempting fate, am I right?"

Hunter seemed to breath a sigh of relief. Not that he had room to judge the day's set standards of decency, but at least it wasn't _all_ chaos. "Thank goodness... Wait, does that mean the others-"

"Hey guys! You all ready for a rip-roaring rodeo of regicide?!" Came Ruby's voice from behind Hunter, nearly making him jump in surprise. Behind her were both Blank and Weiss. They too had completely changed their attire.

Yang leaned in to murmur. "Yes, yes it does."

A barely visible shudder ran through Hunter's body as he learned in to murmur back. "We need to set some ground rules when we get back."

Yang gave a wink and a nod. "I'll talk to them tonight. A solid from me."

He followed with a nod of appreciation.

This exchange was missed however as Weiss was busy correcting the youngest member of the team. "No one royal is even participating in the class, so it cant be regicide. I mean, besides me of course." Blake rolled her eyes so visibly, a man standing on the broken moon could have seen it.

Hunter opened his mouth to object before he quickly shut it again. Thankfully his mask hid this action. Gods he loved his mask. He absently pulled it back down. "I wasn't aware you were from a noble family, Ms. Weiss."

The looked at him blankly for a moment before frustration marred her face. "What is it with half the population of Beacon not knowing who the Schnees are?!" Though it was a general question, she seemed to be shouting it to Ruby in particular. The girl in red seemed to look askance with a wry, embarrassed smile and a scratch of her cheek.

Her question went unanswered, so she composed herself (with an indignant huff) and gestured to herself. "My family is the foundation for the Schnee Dust Company. We ship dust all over the world and are its largest supplier. We have money, influence, and prestige. So, while not 'royal' per say, the Schnee family is _pretty_ big deal." By the time her explanation had reached its end, her indignation had cooled to a textbook explanation.

Hunter realized there was a lot about these four girls he had no idea about. Another box to check off his list later.

He gave a hesitant nod. "I see." He grinned playfully. "Perhaps then, Ruby intends for _you_ to be the target of said regicide."

Weiss blinked stoically for a moment before rounding on her teammate with both hands on her skirted hips.

"Hunter! Don't tell her my secre- oh, whaaaat? No I don't, that'd be dumb, who'dwanttohurtWeissomg..." She trailed off sarcastically, fidgeting under the Schnee's glare, not meeting her eyes.

Hunter couldn't resist a laugh. These children were so fully of life and energy. Would that he could relive childhood's beginning with girls like these.

A tone echoed through the locker room prompting those still loitering exit out to the classroom. "That's the bell," Blake explained. "We'd better get out there."

Hunter nodded. "Agreed. Can't be late to my first class, can I?"

* * *

The gallery was populated with students, all from the same year. in addition to himself and team RWBY, there were at least thirty-six other students, not all from Beacon; some from Haven, some from Atlas... Even three or six from Shade Academy. Some were more obvious than others. The Atlas troupe seemed to all ware a white uniform that looked both functional and militaristic. Shade Academy students seemed to be less well dressed than the others, favoring instead a light enemble that would do them well in the hot heat of the desert region. All were dressed for combat and armed with an assortment of impressively varied weaponry. Below them, on the stage stood the familiar blonde form of Professor Goodwitch. Though her words were primarily to the students, he felt her eyes linger on him more than once during her preparatory speech. She was, naturally, wary of him. Even if Ozpin seemed to trust him, it was clear she wasn't entirely confident in her compatriot's judgement. To be honest though, if he were in her position, he would be just as distrusting as she was.

"Any of your friends from Shade?" Ruby asked, leaning in to whisper to him, an excited smile on her face. He recalled that to the young girl, meeting new weapons was like meeting new people. The relationship between weapon and wielder was intricate and personal. And with each student in this world seemingly encouraged to make their own weapon which they would use throughout their career, each one spoke volumes about the wielder. Hunter understood her fascination well. _Very_ well indeed.

"No," he said plainly. "I'm not the friend-making type, here or there."

Ruby almost frowned, but found her smile again as she cocked her head at him. "You did good with us," she said, as if to prove him wrong.

He allowed a smile to reflect on his own face. "Well, that seems to be true." His eyes sparkled with something she could not see, and glinted with a warm light. "Miracles do happen now and then."

"Now, who wants to be our first participants of the day?" she asked, having gotten through the announcements which Hunter hadn't been focusing on. She turned to one student in particular. "Mr. Winchester?"

The boy stood with a growl. "Sure, I'll go first. And I know exactly who I want to fight..." He was looking directly at Hunter.

THis fact did not escape Glynda. "Ah yes. Looking for a little payback for lunch, Mr. Winchester?" Her words snapped his gaze back to her worriedly. "Yes," she confirmed, though he hadn't asked anything. "We're aware of your little... scuffle earlier."

Hunter breathed a breath out his nose as all eyes turned to him. He frowned and shrugged his shoulders. "I decline."

A wave of murmurs passed through the crowd, sending Cardin into a tizzy. "What do you mean, 'decline?' You were acting all brave earlier? Whatsamatter? Scared now that you can't sneak up on me?"

Antagonistic. But it was a valid question. RWBY looked from one boy to the next expectantly. Yang gave him a thumbs up followed by punching her fist into her hand aggressively.

But he shook his head, mostly for their benefit than his own. "I'm not interested in fighting you in the slightest," he said simply. One of the other spectators, a girl with a pink skirt and mango colored hair cackled uproariously.

"HAHAA! Cardin got _dumped!"_

This spawned a few fits of laughter from the other students as well, and Cardin's fury began to boil. "Shut up Valkyrie!" he said with a pointed finger before returning his attention to his target. "I'm _challenging_ you newbie! Fight me fair and square!"

Hunter fixed him with a blatant stare, standing up to address him from across the room. "And I'm _declining_ your challenge. You're a bully. You have neither my respect nor my attention."

Cardin opened his mouth to retort but no sounds came out. What could he said that might strike a nerve under the new student's skin? Nothing that professor Goodwitch wouldn't berate him severely for later. He wisely kept silent.

"Well," said professor interjected in the ensuing silence. "There you have it, Mr. Winchester."

Cardin ruefully sat down, stewing in frustration and disdain. A myriad of emotions flashed over his face and none of them were pleasant.

Meeting Cardin's silence, Goodwitch proceeded. "...Anyone _else_ , Mr. Winchester?"

Cardin huffed and rested his arms behind his head dismissively. "It doesn't matter."

Goodwitch rgarded the young man for a moment before looking down at her scroll thoughtfully. "I see... I suppose I'll have to choose for you. How about team CDRL..." All eyes widened. A team fight? But versus who?

"...Pyrrha Nikos."

A commotion sprung up around the classroom. Switching from a mano a mano duel to a team fight was one thing, but stacking one team against a single opponent? That was absured. But at the same time, Hunter heard them all excuse it; "It _is_ Pyrrha Nikos after all." By the words of the many, it did seem Ms. Nikos had a bit of a reputation as a capable fighter, even among those from other schools. This intrigued him. Was she really capable of competing against four young men? She would need considerable capability to keep up with the strength and vigor of the four boys making their way down to the stage. He leaned forward in his seat, taking a keen interest from the offset.

They lined up and faced each other, and with a signal from the professor, the fight began.

* * *

The sights and sounds of Beacon were alarmingly much for the four as they made their way through the bustling city streets. The noise of many beings speaking all at once, some in conversation, some hocking their wares, and others calling for transportation from the many taxis or buses on the street. It was a far cry from the gentle secluded forests she was used to, the quiet streams and flowery meadows... Still, she bore with the oppressive atmosphere as well as any of her teammates. Jericho, Janus and Proteus couldn't stop their eyes from wandering as they made their way to the center of the city, the academy of Beacon itself. Their arrival had been without fanfare or obstruction and, after announcing their arrival to the city's law enforcement, they were given passes which would indicate them as participants in the Vytal Festival. Calipso clutched the pass close to her chest, as if it would disappear if she let it go.

She knew she was probably too nervous about this than she should have been, a fact that Janus would chide her for, and Jericho would tease her for. Proteus, of the three of them, was the one she got along with best. He wasn't as outgoing, and so was easy to talk (or vent) to. He didn't instinctively control the conversation like the others. He preferred to take a step back and observe the situation before getting involved, partially so that he could dissect what he was seeing, and also because he wasn't as confident as the others. He was the kind of guy who had to be _sure_ about something before capitalizing on it.

Conversely, Janus had no trouble speaking his mind, more often than not correcting one or all of them them about one thing or another, which was understandably irritating. But even she had to admit that most of the time it was warranted; He was usually right, and he at least practiced what he preached.

Jericho on the other hand always had something negative to say about everything, or dismissively ignorant of things he didn't care for. He was an arrogant SOB that drove her up the wall whenever he spoke. But what annoyed her even more than his egotism was his battle-sense. Between the four of them, he had an unnatural instinct to sense when danger was near and react before she could think to the same. He refused to give credit to anybody for them, claiming that they were an evolutionary symbol of his superiority. He also wasn't as dumb as she'd like to believe either.

All this to say she wasn't perfect; she had her share of flaws that she hated as much as the next girl. But she had _goals._ Unlike her teammates who seemed content to kill Grimm, eat, sleep, rinse and repeat, she wasn't keen on settling for a mundane life like that. No one ever got anywhere by being content. This sometimes (often) bled into her interactions with her team in the same way. She had no doubt she probably made a fool of herself more than once, but she'd requested more than once to be transferred to a more... professional team, one that might more appropriately assist in accomplishing her dreams.

These three though? Ugh... Half the time they behaved like children, but the most infuriating part was when they actually nutted-up and looked the picture of professionalism. It made her physically unwell. They were perfectly capable of behaving like professional huntsmen, but they always regressed to childishness. Of course she'd gone to the headmaster about it, asking, _begging_ him to transfer her to a new team. He refused, citing some age-old adage about pottery never looking like anything until time and effort was put into it. Only her pride kept her from storming off.

Today was a good day, where none of them had any particular gripes to share or grievances to air. She suspected the unfamiliar city had their senses on edge and their wanderlust drifting.

"Well, since we've got nothing to do for the day, what say we all grab something to eat?" Janus suggested his brown eyes fixing on a street-side vendor several blocks down. He was always one to catch and cook his own food, so she was surprised how often he would opt to eat out at a restaurant when given the opportunity. Not that she disagreed with his suggestion, though she'd die before eating street vendor food.

Much to her distaste, neither Proteus nor Jericho dissented. "I could go for a bite," Jericho said, though he was looking at another establishment across the street.

"Sounds good to me. But I think we should find our hotel first," Proteus stipulated, checking his scroll and swiping to a map of the city whereupon was a legend of the various sights to see and places of interest to visit.

She found herself shaking her head. "Uh, no thanks. I'll... I'm gonna go look around. I'll find my way to the hotel one way or another."

All three boys looked at her. Jericho was giving her that look again. She _hated_ that look. He was contemptuous by nature, and as much as he was a pain in her neck, she knew her more individualistic nature rubbed him the wrong way. _There goes loner-Cali again, she's too good for our company._ And he knew she knew it, which made it all the worse.

Janus regarded her for a moment, but eventually nodded. "We'll see you there then. Do you want us to pick you up something or...?" To his credit, for all his high-and-mighty attitude got to her, he did care about the team's well-being, though he wasn't perceptive enough to notice all of the little interpersonal tensions that existed between them all. His concerns were almost purely in the physical, which made for some very blunt, and very awkward comments sometimes. Sometimes.

"Don't bother," she said pointing to her scroll. "I want to go check out one of the open classes. If I run I can make it."

Open classes were a thing that Beacon was doing this year, allowing traveling students who were residing in the city to observe classes while they waited for the Vytal Festival to begin. Some huntsmen and huntresses would attend for the simple interest in the class, but she had a whole other reason for angling for one class in particular.

* * *

"And that's the match."

The fight was over. Pyrrha Nikos had, to use the colloquialism, _wiped the floor_ with team CRDL. And the amazing thing? Not a single strike from them had as much as scratched her skin. It was a fantastic display of skill and finesse. Hunter wished he could watch it again. Applause came from the many around him and he found himself joining in their adulation.

"Winner, Pyrrha Nikos." Professor Goodwitch eyed the groaning, barely-ambulating boys from CRDL and gave a disappointed look. "Perhaps you four will take what you've learned here to heart, yes? An outnumbered opponent isn't necessarily an outmatched opponent." The collective groans of the boys as they almost crawled off the stage was enough of a confirmation on their part.

She looked down at her scroll. On it was a list of students, and a checklist of those who had and had not participated in class for the past few sessions. She scrolled through it, noting that one name stood out from it. She paused over it. The fact that the name was there meant that she had to act within her faculties as a professor and include everyone in the class. Even those she would prefer did were not present.

"Mr. Hunter."

The boy in question raised his brow and pointed to himself, as if there was another person named Hunter that she might have called. But her direct gaze was indicative enough that she did in fact mean _him._ Many of the students were looking his way, trying to spy who it was she was talking to, who they were next going to spectate as they sparred.

As soon as his brow raised, it furrowed, and Glynda had a feeling she understood why. He was confused. Perhaps he thought that because of whatever deal he'd struck with Ozpin, he was safe from class participation. Well, even if he was something special, that didn't mean he could shirk off his classwork. And if that meant sparring, then that damn well meant sparring. Not that she was keen on allowing someone who had just fought against (and lost to) her students in the field in a bout of heat delirium (she seriously doubted the validity of that claim) fight against some of those same students now, but she figured that if he was to do so at all, it would be best under her watchful eyes.

She nodded to him. "How do you feel about a spar? I hear its great for getting those first day jitters out of the system." She let a small smirk grace her face as some of the students chuckled under their breath. Truth be told, this _was_ exactly how she would treat a new student who had just transferred, as was Hunter's alibi.

Slowly, warily, Hunter stood to his feet and nodded. "Very well. On one condition."

Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "And that is?"

Hunter pointed his finger to the only other person on the platform. A glint in his eye spoke of something Glynda had seen all too many times; a desire to prove oneself. _To challenge_.

"I'd like to fight Miss Nikos."

She frowned. "Miss Nikos has just completed a match. I'm afraid you'll have to choose someone else or, of course, I can choose someone _for_ you."

But to her surprise the girl waved her off. "No, that's fine," she assured with a matching expression in her own eyes. "It'd love to give it a go."

Glynda gave her a skeptical look. "...You're sure Miss Nikos?"

"Absolutely." To her credit, the girl had a winning smile.

Glynda felt a breath leave her chest. "Very well."

* * *

Hunter descended the steps and walked up on the stage, he kept his eyes on the gold and scarlet clad girl, looking much, aesthetically, like the soldiers of antiquity. In her arms and legs he saw the firm muscles of a warrior and her core was solid and grounded. During her previous fight, her center of gravity never once shifted out of place. She was in complete control of her body, as a warrior should be.

Compared to the boys she all but trashed, she was like a god. He wondered how she would fair...

But his attention was diverted to her face as she spoke. She wore a bright, warm smile that contained no hostility whatsoever. Perhaps a hint of challenge to it, but that was to be expected in anyone who looked forward to competition. "We got off on the wrong foot the other day," she said, and he realized that she must have been one of the ones to subdue him. He'd _thought_ she looked familiar! "My name's Pyrrha Nikos. A pleasure to meet you." She twirled her weapon in hand idly.

He nodded eyeing both it and the shield she bore. "The same. Forgive me if I seem," he paused, "distant. I don't recall much from... well, from before." Her look of recognition indicated she knew what he was talking about. he gave a small bend at the waist, bringing his right arm over to his right. "My name is Hunter." He reached behind him and withdrew his weapons. "It's an honor to meet you in combat _properly_."

She quirked a small, humored smirk "This is basically a Welcome-to-Beacon bout. The honor of first impressions is mine."

She eyed them for a moment, as a warrior might, taking in their size, their apparent function, weighing them against her own arsenal of equipment and capabilities. From the hardening look on her face, as well as the eager grin that joined it, it was obvious she considered him in a different league than the CDRL boys.

He pulled his mask up over his face. He'd be damned if he disappointed.

"If you're both ready..." Goodwitch glanced between them both judging their preparedness and raising a hand to signal the match, "...begin!"

Unlike Cardin and his ilk, Pyrrha didn't immediately rush in for the attack. Instead, she crossed her legs, one over the other and began to circle him. He followed suit, watching her shifting stance for an opening to exploit. From her performance before, he'd seen the uses of her weapon. Fashioned after the head of a javelin, it was effectively a short sword and a variable rifle. Her left hand held a bronze shield, circular and thick, yet held with such grace he almost believed it was weightless in her hands. What confounded him was her choice of armor. He understood that armor was relatively redundant in the Grimm-hunting profession due to the existence of aura.

Where physical and metaphysical met, there aura existed. It was the primary source of protection against harm. Thus, he deduced that any indication of actual armor was likely just an aesthetic choice, which was the only way he could rationalize the way her armor was designed. Vast swathes of her body were left unprotected. A pity the aforementioned aura kept him from exploiting them.

In an instant, her spear shifted into a gun and she raised it to her shoulder. He felt the familiar prickle of danger on his neck; he was moving before the bullet left its chamber. Left, right, left, left, right. He rushed her, bringing his saw to bear. She backhanded it away with her shield, her weapon shifting again to the blade. She retaliated, not only slashing, but striking with her legs and arms. He'd seen her do this before, and it was beautiful to watch, but facing the onslaught himself, he realized just how complicated fighting against her actually was. Steel scraped steel as their weapons met, sparks causing neither to so much as blink.

She was still smiling.

He deviated, whirling and striking with his blunderbuss which she caught with her shield, spinning and swinging with her blade. He stepped back to dodge it, but the handle to the sword extended and slid from her grasp. She caught it at right before it would leave her reach and it slashed him across the chest. He felt pain radiate from the slice and he stumbled backward. He dropped to a knee, his weapon clattering against the floor as he instinctively brought a hand to his chest. He let out an instinctive groan and embraced the pain. He hadn't actually expected her to land the attack. Evidently neither did she.

Her grin vanished, replaced by stunned inaction. She clearly hadn't thought she'd actually cut him. "W-What?! But I... I didn't..."

Goodwitch's reaction was much the same. According to her device, which he had noted was capable of monitoring one's aura level, his aura was still at one hundred percent, while Nikos' was much the same. She was as much stunned to silence as her student was. Nikos glanced from her victim to her professor as if begging for an explanation, or perhaps vindication. She'd done nothing out of the ordinary after all. Even if she'd hit him with her strongest attack, she _shouldn't_ have been able to breach fresh defenses. And yet she had. Trivially. _Effortlessly._

But this was, to some extent, to be expected. He grinned beneath his mask as he angled his gun at her and fired. The shot slammed into the red-head full force, sending her staggering back several steps. With a lunge, he grabbed his fallen weapon and lurched forward, swinging in a wide arc. Staggered though she might be, Miss Nikos was certainly something spectacular, as she found her footing just in time to step back out of reach of his weapon. But her's was not the only weapon capable of extending its reach.

With a rustic grinding of gears, the saw blade swung out, long enough to catch her in the side, and with enough force to send her tumbling across the stage. Without even waiting for her to stop rolling, his gun's break-action lever ejected the spent shell as he loaded a fresh one in, closing it with a flick of his wrist and firing again. But this one wasn't a quicksilver bullet. This one was one of the red-dust rounds bestowed from professor Ozpin. If it functioned as he suspected...

She had just enough time to hear the shot and raise her shield in front of her body before it hit her full force. The explosion sent a cloud of black smoke bursting from the impact point, no Pyrrha Nikos to be seen. The entire hall was silent as he peered into the smoke. He waited for movement. For her to come barreling out of it toward him. Instead, the low-profiled golden discus-of-a-shield flew straight for his face. he raised his gun in time to deflect it, and succeeded in doing so, though he lost his grip from the force of the throw.

Both secondaries were tossed into the air. Behind it trailed the girl, the pleasant smile gone from her face and fierce determination replacing it. Her right hand brandished her weapon. As did his.

He retracted the weapon back into its compacted form and readied himself. They met blade to blade, her more acrobatic combat style gaining her ground as he backpedaled. But as soon as she had the advantage, she lost it. In a flourish of movement that she knew had no chance of hitting her, she found herself at a loss for breath as a deep gut-wrenching pain slammed into her midsection, only slightly nullified by her aura and armor. As she stumbled back, she was also trying to understand how he'd just managed to slip inside her guard. But she was quick on her feet as she spun her blade up and transformed it into a rifle again spraying accurate shots in his direction, again, dodged by uncanny movements that shouldn't have been possible to execute.

Another oddity she couldn't understand. Unless he was bolstered by some sort of semblance-enhanced speed, there was no chance her shots should miss, and she wasn't so inaccurate as to miss in the first place. And yet, he clearly wasn't; his form was indelicate and rudimentary, with some of his moves both telling and sluggish.

He kicked his lost weapon back up into his left hand and fired. She had to brace herself as the buckshot slammed into her aura shield and sent her sliding back by inches. She grit her teeth and shook her head. She hadn't expected him to have a second round loaded in the chamber already. He'd reloaded after only one shot before... Was his rifle capable of holding more than that? Had his reload been deliberate? To lull her into a false sense of security?

He rushed her. Both hands swung wildly, but dangerously. Even if the rifle was no more than an iron club without ammunition (and she wasn't taking any chances thinking it wasn't loaded) it was still a strike that would do damage if it connected. Her shield reappeared on her arm. If its appearance surprised him, it didn't show, for what expressions on his masked face might be worth. Edge met edge, gun met shield. Whatever shock she'd had at the appearance of his wound had passed and she focused herself on subduing him. But she noted how with every clash they had, his strikes became more accurate, his movements more fluid, and his hand-to-hand combat more pronounced. He was beginning to use his legs more to strike, maintain his footing, and to disrupt her own.

If she'd had the presence of mind to think, she'd think it was as if he were adapting (with uncanny efficiency) to her fighting style. He twisted, stepping away and whirling his extended blade at her with a blast of ominous wind and iron. She quickly activated her semblance, nudging the flying blade ever so slightly off course, which she emphasized by smacking it away with her shield. Why he felt like it was a good idea to throw away his weapon, she didn't know, but regardless if it might be a trap or not, it was the perfect moment to claim victory.

She spun her spear around her neck, catching it with her right hand and managing to slash it against Hunter's throat. She made a conscious effort to stop the blade before it cut through his flesh.

Both froze.

His right hand was outstretched, naught inches from her face. Whatever his next move had been, he'd stopped mid strike. Her left, shield-bearing arm was swung down to her right side, knocking against the barrel of his gun, keeping it from aiming towards her.

It was by no means a clean touché, but between her blade and his open-handed strike, she figured she had the advantage.

After several seconds Hunter let out a long breath of air and he noticed just what he was about to do, what was about to strike the girl from all sides. What she couldn't even begin to perceive. He withdrew his limbs, and she did the same, stepping back to appraise one another.

Hunter smiled. "Well fought, Miss Nikos," he complimented with a nod as he pulled his mask down to his neck.

"Pyrrha, please," she corrected, before asking what was so powerfully on her mind. "Are you... okay?" She knew he shouldn't be, but the way he was nonchalantly carrying on, the way he behaved... it was like he wasn't even registering his earlier wound.

He patted his chest where she'd cut through his cloak. "No need to worry," he said with a sly grin. "It's my semblance."

She raised her eyebrows, glancing to Glynda as if for confirmation. "...Your semblance?" But the blonde was equally in the dark as she.

Hunter nodded. "My semblance is rather unique. Instead of manifesting my aura as a protective coat of arms, it instead translates damage I inflict as healing to myself." he pulled the slip clothes apart to show her the flesh beneath. It wasn't a complete heal, she noted, but the thin white scar-line that was where she doubtlessly caught him was nothing like the open wound she expected to see. "Perhaps I should have warned you before," he added with mirth as he gave himself a satisfactory pat over his non-wound. "But I wanted to see your reaction."

"Ignoring how _dangerous_ that is," she began, though she tried to reciprocate his humor, "that's a bit dirty, don't you think?"

His smile dimmed a touch, and she thought she saw genuine sorrow... of _some_ sort... inside his eyes.

"Yes... Sorry. I'm used to fighting Grimm, not people. I'm more of a, 'a win's a win' kind of fellow. Treat every fight like its for your life, because the one time you don't, you'll lose it."

Pyrrha couldn't help the frown on her face, and though she couldn't see it, Hunter beheld an empathy he hadn't expected in a girl as young as her. "I won't say that's not wise, but at the same time that's so..." she searched for the words, "sad." She didn't speak with sarcasm or sass, and the tone of her voice pulled at something inside him.

Gods, the girl was mature beyond her years.

Hunter considered those words. Ozpin had implied the dangerous connection between emotions and the lure of the creatures of Grimm. He supposed, fighting another student in what was essentially a competition of skill and technique should committed with more levity and entertainment. He let out an ironic laugh. When was the last time he had fought with those emotions in his heart? He couldn't remember a single instance.

It was all so very... pitiful, really. The only readily available comparison he could bring to bear was the _thrill_ of the fight, which for a hunter was a very, _very_ dangerous thing indeed. He felt his mask slip. Not the mask of cloth about his neck, but the one he wore over his face, over himself. That was an utterly perceptive statement from one so young. So honest, so true.

"It is," he agreed, giving her a strange look. "Perhaps a dose of friendly competition is exactly what I need?" He laughed off his gloom dismissively. Of course, she was a child. Barely a newborn babe. She didn't know the horrors that awaited those who lived long enough to experience them. But why expose her that that abyss? So few could face it without blinking. Let her have her youthful callowness. He eyed the many spectators watching them. Let them all have their innocence. Sooner or later, they will face the deep, more than one of them will flounder there and drown.

But the deep was _his_ domain. None would be lost while he patrolled those depths. That, he asserted.

Pyrrha returned his smile, though it seemed a bit forced. "Well, I don't think it would be a bad thing. For you or anyone really."

He smiled at her thoughtfully. "Pyrrha Nikos. I'll remember that name."

"And I'll remember yours, Hunter." She extended her hand and he looked at it for a moment before clasping it.

Glynda smiled at them both and stepped forward to address the class. "Winner, Pyrrha Nikos. Well fought, both of you." She eyed Hunter warily, but her words seemed to be genuine regardless. He returned her look with equal wariness. He doubted this was a woman he would ever fully get along with. Nevertheless, he bore her no ill will. He just found her continued skepticism... wearying. But to each their own.

Neither of them noticed the figure in the back of the room watching with intense curiosity.

* * *

Calipso had entered the room in the middle of the fight, and she had to shake her head to make sure she wasn't just seeing things. She _had_ traveled quite a ways and perhaps she was more hungry than she thought. But no, she wasn't imagining things. There, center-stage was one like them, a huntsman who fashioned himself after the style of the old headmaster.

Like _them_.

Everything about him screamed familiarity. His weapon was rough and rudimentary, but so very like those that the Old Man had shown them when they joined the school. No, it was _unmistakably_ a saw-cleaver; a weapon of the hunters of old.

And the blunderbuss with the break-action loading system, the rustic iron texture of both weapons... And his _attire!_ The drab black cloak, the full length leather gloves, boots... The mask. _The cap._ He was, element for element dressed in the trappings of their school's uniform. But he was no student she'd ever seen. Even from a distance he carried himself with an uncanny air that set all her senses screaming. He reminded her so much less of a student and more like... like...

The realization dawned on her like strange epiphany. "Professor M," she whispered without realizing it. He had the same distant look in his eyes, the same mildly apathetic smile that held so little real emotion; she could see it even under his mask. Maybe these other students didn't notice, but she was _intimately_ familiar with it; she'd spent enough time with the woman to know that expression when she saw it. After all, in addition to being her squad's mentor, she was also Cali's idol, though she'd never let the boys know that.

Was he some sort of impostor? She debated how likely that scenario was... and she had to admit, watching him fight, she found that hypothesis _very_ strong indeed.

As the fight climaxed, she found herself blinking at the vitreous humour that evaded her vision. She rubbed a tired eye. Perhaps she should have taken her team up on their offers for food after all. She blinked away the black spots in her vision, formed from the force of her massaging, and watched as the familiar stranger picked up his discarded weapon and made to return to his seat.

She knew Pyrrha Nikos by reputation, and her face was on the face of every Pumpkin Pete's cereal box. The legendary warrior was known throughout the Vale by even the youngest aspiring huntress, and even outside the Kingdom, tournament aficionados would know her by even the slightest glance of her red pony-tail.

For a nobody, he put up a good fight. She'd seen enough of Nikos' fights on the net to know the girl's tactics and habits. She also knew what the girl looked like when she was pressured.

She looked aside and saw a student sitting close to the center aisle. She approached and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, did you catch the name of the other guy?" she asked, indicating with a finger to the person in question.

The student followed her gaze and nodded. "Yeah, I think his name was Hunter... or something."

She almost balked at the words that came out of his mouth. "...Hunter?" It was less of a question than she intended.

The boy nodded. "Pretty sure, yeah."

She took a moment to digest that before she returned his nod, muttered a quick "thanks," and rushed out of the room to find her team somewhere within the labyrinth of the city.

They were _not_ going to believe this.

* * *

 **A/N: And there you have it! Chapter three done and dusted! I'll be absolutely frank with you all, I didn't want to do this one. Rather, I didn't want to do the whole cliche, "New guy's first class is combat class" trope, but The more I thought about it the more I realized it would progress the story in the proper manner that I have planned. There was another way I could have done it, but I wasn't confident that it would be entertaining to read. I foresaw that path taking far too long to ramp up. So here we are.**

 **But of course, WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!**

 **Hunter has a semblance? Wait, _he has an aura?!_ What? How? Why?! I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!**

 **Fear not, all will be revealed soon enough! For now, feel free to speculate and wonder the how-so's and the why-for's to your heart's content! I'll see you all on the next one!**

 **Soon. Very soon... ;)**


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